


Alles hat ein Ende, nur die Wurst hat zwei

by Darksknight



Category: Marvel, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Ableist Language, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Jewish Character, College AU, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Homophobic Language, I'm not tagging every single one of the X-men there's your three mains, M/M, Modern AU, Multi, Mutual Pining, No Proofreading We Die Like Men, Slow Burn, everyone still has powers/mutations, hinted Raven/Azazel, hinted Raven/Irene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-09-28 00:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10059671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darksknight/pseuds/Darksknight
Summary: “My mother has expressed that if I come dateless, I will be assigned one, to put it lightly. So, you see... well, I have a favor to ask. Erik, darling. Will you be my pretend boyfriend?"Erik thinks it over for a second. "... No."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my slow-burn, mutual pining, fake-relationship AU; aka shameless self indulgence. 
> 
> I read so many fics were Charles has use of his legs that sometimes I seriously forget that he doesn't. I started writing the second part of this with him walking around and then wanted to slam my face into my keyboard when I realized. 
> 
> This chapter is called "Erik Doesn't Have the Ability to Say No to Charles"

Erik Lehnsherr is a man of few principals- he does what he wants, he does what he does well, and he doesn’t do what he doesn’t want. It’s the simple things, he supposed, that let you live the way you want. Any offer made to him that doesn’t sound exactly like what he wants is shot down without any guilt, and he takes up the things he wants and needs with quick grace and brutal efficiency. It’s not hard. 

But this? This is.

“Erik, I know how you hate this whole thing but… please?” 

Erik Lehnsherr doesn’t get crushes. He doesn’t really like anyone, actually- especially naive rich boys who hide behind facades and popularity. And yet, Charles is the exception- because he likes Charles Xavier; a very rich boy who is doubtlessly naive about the world, who hides his true self behind politeness and bad pick up lines and swims circles around the popular groups of society without trying. 

Chalres also seems to be an exception to everything else in Erik. Here he is- asking Erik to do something he really doesn’t want to do, and probably can’t do well, and Erik is _considering_ it. Erik doesn’t consider things because he knows what he’s fucking doing. 

Except of course, at the moment. Charles Xavier does that to people. He makes them _consider_ because he’s got his bright blue eyes in your head and you can’t get him out. 

“No.” Phew. That was harder than he thought. He’s never sweated so much over shooting someone down. But what was he supposed to do? Cave because Charles gave him slightly-pleading eyes? He’s not that pathetic.

Charles gives him fully-pleading eyes. “Please, Erik? I… I need you.”

“Fine.” _What? What the fuck? What was that?! Did you just agree-_

Charles lights up like he’s been given the world. “Oh, thank you so much Erik! I- I don’t know how I can ever repay you, I promise, I’ll make this as painless and as smooth as I can for you- you won’t regret it.” 

_Won’t regret it?_ Erik thinks, sourly. _I’m already regretting it._

Erik Lehnsherr is a lot of things. He’s smart, he’s fit, he’s bilingual, he’s Jewish, he’s all sorts of things but dear god a boyfriend isn’t one of them. Real or otherwise. He can’t- he can’t fucking pretend to be the worse half to Charles fucking Xavier, even if he does have an oddly intense thing for the man. (Erik doesn’t get crushes, remember? Except he’s pretty sure he’s falling in love with Charles and that is a _major_ fucking problem.) 

“I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow morning- I’ll email you a list of things you’ll need to pack. Thank you so, so much my friend. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without you.” 

Erik Lehnsherr is, to put it frankly, well and properly screwed. 

 

-

 

Charles happily spun himself in a circle, unabashedly dancing in Hank’s line of sight. He doesn’t care if Hank sees- this isn’t the first time he’s danced around their apartment, and this isn’t the first time that Erik has been the cause. 

“ _He called me old friend, today, Hank! He considers me a good friend!”_

Charles can honestly say when he’d come to Erik, well, he’d not been expecting it to be so… easy. He’d had several bribes backed up and a couple of pouting looks he’d practiced on Raven back in the day. Erik was really nicer than everyone thought he was- he’s said yes to a half-brained scheme without too much thought on it. If that didn’t say something about him, well, Charles wasn’t sure what would. 

Charles was about a semester away from his second PhD at MCU- Mutant’s Columbia University- and Erik was probably going to go through with his idea to open up his own architecture firm. Charles loved the idea Erik had whipped up- his firm would design mutant friendly buildings. Apartment complexes with rooms designed to accommodate specific mutations, buildings with functions to make all areas accessible and safe for all mutants, kitchens with room for tails, stairs wide enough for wings, glass thick enough to withstand accidental sonic-screams. It was brilliant, really. 

Charles liked to secretly think that he and Erik were two sides of the same coin- Charles wanted to educate people on mutation and thus make people safe towards mutants, and Erik wanted to make their surroundings safe for them. Or something like that- he was still thinking on how to phrase it properly. 

Still, despite their similarities and several years as best friends in school together, well, Charles had never allowed himself to dream that Erik would ever say yes to being more than that. And, alright, fine, it was FAKE- Erik had only agreed to be his fake boyfriend- but god it was more than he could have ever hoped for. 

“You’re doing it again.” Hank said, absently, not even looking away from his computer screen. 

Charles paused. 

“Doing what?”

“Staring into space fantasizing about Magneto.” 

Charles frowned. “That’s not very nice, Hank.” 

“Huh?” Hank blinked. “I thought-“

“The nickname.” Charles clarified. Base-lines in their class had started the little joke a few years back and, unfortunately, it had spread. 

“What? Erik loves that name.” 

Charles paused. “Well. Yes.” He did, actually, but Charles had heard it used like some sort of super villain calling card so many times that he often bristled at the sound of it. Though, Erik probably loved the name for the same reason… “Carry on.” 

Hank rolled his eyes, but smiled. “So, he said yes?”

“He did!” Charles wheeled himself back over to the bed, where he had his suitcase open. “Do you think this is too many sweaters?”

“Do you wear anything _but_ sweaters?” Hank reasoned. “And before I start congratulating you, what _exactly_ did Erik agree to?” 

Charles lifted his hand to his temple in order to show Hank his intentions. Hank’s eyes closed before Charles gave him the re-play of the scene. 

_“Speaking of my… vacation.” Charles swallowed, fiddling with the tear in the arm of his wheelchair. He’d been meaning to get that fixed. “My mother has expressed that if I come dateless, I will be assigned one, to put it lightly.”_

_Erik raise a brow. “Assigned.” he repeated._

_“She has several well-off women she’s been dying to throw me at.” He admitted, flushing. “It doesn’t matter how I protest, she’ll go so far as to arrange for us to share a room without my permission. You know her- she’s… well. Mother.”_

_“You mean insane.”_

_Charles winced. Every time Charles was forced to allow his mother and Erik in the same room, well, it didn’t go as smoothly as the young telepath might have hoped for. Erik nearly hated the woman, and had said multiple times that her only saving grace was her relation to Charles. “Well. Yes. But, anyway, well, I have a plan to get out of it.”_

_Both of Erik’s brows rose, then. “Oh? Professor Pacifist, finally putting his foot down?” He grinned with humor. “Not going to let her put you with anyone over forty or are you really going to tell her to mind her own business for once?”_

_Charles pinked. “Well… it’s a little more. Um- it involves lying. And. And trickery.”_

_“Your sister would yell at you for taking her brand-name moves.”_

_Charles couldn’t help his snort of laughter. “Erik, damn it.” He laughed again. “I’m being serious.”_

_“Then what’s your plan, Charles?” He blinked and then said, “Not…?” And lifted two fingers to his temple._

_Charles rolled his eyes. “Yes, Erik, I’m going to abuse my gift spending the holiday projecting to everyone in the vicinity so that I’m left to my own. Brilliant.”_

_“I was only asking, Charles.”_

_“And I was simply answering.” Charles returned. He laughed again, at Erik’s eye-roll, and then said, “But… no. You see, well, I have a favor to ask.”_

_Erik looked puzzled for almost an entire second. Then his face went flat. “No.”_

_“Think about it! All I need is someone to pretend to be my better half for the holiday! I mean, it’ll mostly be parties and social things, so it’s hardly like it will be a chore- all they’d have to do is sit beside me and eat fancy cheese and drink over-priced wine. Hardly torture.”_

_“Dealing with your mother is a sort of torture, no matter what drinks you’re serving.”_

_“Oh, come on, Erik. My date would simply need to know how to handle her.”_

_“No one knows how to handle her.”_

_“… You do.”_

_For a second, Erik stared at him. Then he said, “You can’t be serious.”_

_“As the plague.” Charles promised. “Erik, darling. Will you be my pretend boyfriend?”_

_“I am not the person you take to social events, Charles. I am the person you call to ruin social events. I am the person you call to bail you out of jail when you ruin- no. No,_ you’re _the person_ I _call to bail me out of jail when I ruin social events. If you bring me you’re honestly just an accessory to crime-“_

_Charles, realizing Erik was babbling, cut him off. “Erik, I know how you hate this whole thing but… please?”_

_“No.”_

_He’d known the words were coming, but they still stung. Still, Erik had hesitated at least half a second before his rejection. With enough whining and bribery, perhaps… “Please, Erik? I…” He drew in a breath. “I need you.”_

_“Fine.”_

Charles ended the vision there, sure that Hank had already gotten enough of the post-yes celebration. Hank blinked back to reality before fixing Charles with a long, blank look. 

Charles felt his smile fall. “What?”

“This. This is- this is a colossally horrible idea.”

“Wh-what? I know he’s not good at playing nice, but-“

“No, not that. I mean, yes, that, that’s a bad idea, too, but the rest? Charles, you’re in love with Erik. Playing boyfriends is a horrible idea.” Hank caught the look of dejection that Charles cast at the carpet. “Look, I’m not trying to be a jerk, I just think… it’s a lot for your heart to handle. I mean, how are you going to go from calling each other pet names and snuggling up to each other and, I don’t know, holding hands back to how it actually is? It’s going to break your heart, Charles.”

_Joke’s on you._ Charles thought. _My heart’s already been broken since he clearly only sees me as a friend!_ “Oh, Hank.” He drawled. “You’re far too dramatic, my friend. I’m certain it will be fine.” 

“Yeah, okay, I don't need to be a telepath to see that’s very- very not true. But okay. I’ll be here, studying things that actually make sense, like rocket science.” He muttered. “Ready to text you back when you start panicking about how attached you’ve grown to the guy who got thrown in jail for squashing a car with his bare hands. That’s me.” 

Charles sighed. “I thought we put the car incident behind us.” 

“Nope. It still blows my mind that _that_ is the guy you fell for. Car-Crusher-Lehnsherr.” And damn, there was a nickname Charles hadn’t heard since Erik’s freshman year.

Charles sighed. “It baffles me, too, trust me.” 

Hank smiled. “Well… still. Even if this ends up being bad, I’m glad that it’s Erik you’re taking with you. If you’d asked me to be your fake boyfriend I would have probably faked an acute case o-of pneumonia.” 

“Very comforting, Hank, thank you.” 

Hank laughed. “I’m just saying that he must really like you if he agreed to go with you.” Then he paused. “Though it’s possible that’s just how deep your friendship goes. Alex always says you can only bail a guy out of jail so many times before you’re connected on a deeper level.”

“That’s… an odd thing to say.” Though, perhaps true. “And anyway, we’re friends for reasons other than that.” Though Charles wouldn’t deny that Erik had largely begun to hang out with him in order to pay him back for those times of bail…

“Keep packing, Professor. You don’t have too much time to go over everything three times in a slight panic.” Hank was joking, of course, but Charles couldn’t deny that he was actually right. 

He got back to packing- this time with less dancing. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erik is so proud of who he is that I see him being very proud and holding tightly to his Jewish heritage in the modern world. I don't think I've ever actually read a fic where he was kosher, but I figured I would give it a try. I've done research but if anyone notices and mistakes or something along that line please let me know! Thank you.
> 
> This chapter is called "Charles and Erik Have a Road-Trip in Every Universe"

Erik had stayed with Charles at the mansion before- a couple holidays and vacations before- but never _with_ Charles. He was nervous enough at the prospect, but the thought of everyone else in the entire manor knowing as well made him fidget the entire car ride. That, and “The Science of Blue Wales and their Song on CD” being played without break thanks to Charles. 

“Fascinating.” he kept saying. “Absolutely fascinating.” 

Erik was just glad that Charles was the driver. Otherwise, they’d likely be in a ditch, and it wouldn’t even be Erik’s fault; who wasn’t put to sleep by long, prattling facts about, well, blue whales of all things? 

“Charles,” he started. “We need to talk.” If he had to listen to another few seconds of this disk, he was going to renew a certain freshman nickname. 

“Of course!” Charles happily paused the disk- thank god for small miracles- and then angled his body towards Erik. “What should we talk about?”

“How we’re going to pull this whole thing off.” 

“Right.” Charles frowned. “I… don’t know. Shouldn’t we just act like we normally do?” Enough people mistook them for a couple as it was. “Wait, no, mother would never buy it. It needs to be more.”

“Hand holding.” Erik decided. “That should do it.” 

Charles rolled his eyes. “Not everyone is so simple as that, Erik.” Looking back out at the endless expanse of road, Charles set the cruise so that he’d have a hand free again to gesture with. “I mean, she’s going to be suspicious as it is. If we were dating for real she’d still be picking everything we do apart…” 

“That’s because your mother is literally insane.” 

“Fair point. But still.” He rubbed his chin. “We talk shit telepathically for the most part. Maybe we’ll drop that for this trip and lovingly whisper endearments into each other’s ear.” 

“… You’re. You’re saying we disguise our shit talking to make it look coupley?” 

“Well, it will be much more naturally brought about that way, don’t you think?” 

He had a fair point. “Charles, you astound me.” 

“I do try, my friend.” He thought for a moment more. “I know you don’t like sharing, but perhaps we should share food and drink. Couples do that.” 

“Yes, and I’m fine sharing with you as it is- you steal off my plate all the time.” 

“Do I?” Charles looked legitimately surprised. “Oh.”

“I’ll feed you. People like to be fed, don’t they?”

“I. Well, I don’t know. I suppose?”

Erik sighed. “You’re a telepath, Charles. Surely you have some idea as to how people behave.”

“Thinking and behavior are very different things. I’ve written a seminar on it, actually, you should read it over some time.” Moving on before Erik could construct a reply, he said, “What else do couples do?”

“Argue.”

“Oh, I think we’ve quite got that one down, darling.” Charles laughed. “And the pet names on my part. Is there any cute thing you want to call me?”

“… Charlie?” He tried. He winced at the same time as Charles. “No.”

“Yes, um, Charles will do.” 

“Um… dear?”

“Don’t strain yourself.” Charles chuckled. “What about the technical stuff?”

“Technical stuff.” Erik repeated. “Like. Who sleeps on what side of the bed?”

“No, I mean, how long have we been together, how did we get together. That sort of thing.” He paused. “Besides, you sleep on the side farthest away from the door. I already know that.” 

“Hmph.” he had no clue how Charles noticed things like that about him. “We’ve been together six months. I asked you out.” 

“Really? _You_ asked me out? Mr. I-Like-Avoiding-My-Feelings?” 

“Yep.” He muttered.

Charles laughed. “Yes, I can see it now. It was very romantic. I was talking about wanting to start seeing someone and you said ‘well why not me’ and we fell romantically into each other’s arms. You brought me roses. It was very heart-touching.” 

“I would have brought you a bonsai tree.” Erik grumbled. “It won’t die like your pathetic roses.” Roses were _such_ a human thing. He bought things that would last, like any reasonable mutant on the planet. Roses. Pssh. Would did Charles take him for?

Charles threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, forgive me, Erik.” He teased. “I didn’t mean to be so base-line with my- my flower choice.” He started laughing again; clearly he’d heard Erik’s rather loud thoughts. “Yes, fine, that’s the story.” 

“You don’t even like roses.” Erik defended himself. 

“Well I don’t hate them.” Charles laughed again. “But yes, you’re right. I would love a little bonsai, thank you. I named it Frederick, how about that, love?”

“Fine.”

“That should about settle it. I mean, what more is there to it? You know what I like, I know what you like. We’re practically a couple as it is.” 

_I wish._ Erik had pretty good shields, thanks to both Charles and Emma, but he still worried about those little thoughts that surfaced around Charles. Maybe they weren’t loud, and Charles hardly payed close attention, but there was always that slight fear that they’d slip past. It was why he’d told Charles to stay out of his head when they’d first started to become friends, but over time he had realized how hypocritical that made him and had reversed that order. The fear of Charles hearing hadn’t gone away with the strict rule to stay out, anyway. 

“What do you think?”

Erik blinked. Shit, he hadn’t been paying attention at all. “What?”

Charles, to his credit, didn’t seem surprised that Erik hadn’t heard him. “I was just wondering if we should tell Raven or not.”

“You mean Mystique.” Erik corrected. She’d made it quite clear what she wanted to be called, as a mutant and not a human, and Erik liked to respect that. 

Charles, on the other hand… “Oh for god’s sake she’s my little sister. I’m not calling her Mystique. When she was seven she wanted to be called Skull-Girl, Erik. She’s an adult and she can make her own choices but I’m not calling her by her eighth make-believe superhero name.” 

They’d argued about this one pretty often. “Charles, you have to respect her wishes as a mutant.”

“I do, Erik. This isn’t- look. If she were trans and she wanted me to call her by a new name, I wouldn’t blink. That is different. But… with Raven, she’s so many different people- she can be anyone she wants. But deep down she’s still her. Still my Raven. And that’s how I see her. To me, Mystique is just another disguise of hers- the activist. If Raven decides that’s who she truly is, maybe my opinion will change. Maybe I will call her Mystique. But until then, she’s still my little sister. Still my Raven. So, there, that’s my piece on it. Say what you will.” 

Erik opened his mouth to rebuke, but… he did understand. He said, “We’ll finish talking about this later,” which, when he thought about it, was _such_ a couple thing to do. There. He was practicing. 

“You just don’t like to admit I’m right.” Charles teased. 

“Years from now, Charles, they’ll be saying Magneto was right.” Erik said, solemnly. “And not a single person is going to pipe up with the lame line ‘Charles was right’ because, as you may be aware, you’re not.” 

Charles said, “I highly doubt that, my friend.” 

“Name one time I’ve been wrong, Charles.” 

Charles gave him a look. “The list, my friend, it’s so long, I don’t know where to begin.” 

Erik knew that face. Charles was bluffing. “One time, Charles.” 

Charles wasn’t bluffing. “How about that time you tried to convince me Moira was plotting our downfall? Or the time you were certain that the teacher yelling at you was actually Raven? Or that time when you thought you could walk on water if it had a high enough concentration of iron? Or-“

“Point made.” Erik grumbled. 

Charles pouted. “Oh, but my friend, there’s so much more! Like that time-“

“ _Enough_ , Charles, I get it.” He tried to think of a time when Charles had been wrong, but… well, all of the things Charles was wrong about had yet to play out. But they would. He knew they would. Eventually. “When will we be there?”

“In due time, Erik.” Charles laughed. 

“I mean when will we be at the mansion, Charles.”

“Oh, of course. About forty minutes.”

Erik groaned. 

“I know you must not have gotten any sleep last night, you've got dark circles. And besides that, you can’t drive my car any way, so there's no point on you staying up with me. Why don't you take a nap? I’ll wake you up when we get to the driveway.” 

A nap _did_ sound pretty good… “You win this time, Charles.”

 

-

 

Charles looked up at the house with barely contained disgust. Mother had clearly had the windows re-done since he’d last been there, and she’d had all the red rose bushes replaced with white roses. Apparently, she still had no reservations about spending money on things she was never going to look at twice. He’d only been gone six months but he always hoped that his time away would be long enough for her to come to her senses and clean her act up. It was a futile hope, of course, but it was something he carried nonetheless. 

“Your mother changed the roses.” Erik noticed. He was helpfully floating their luggage along side himself by the metal fastenings. “I liked the red.” 

“Best not to bring it up.” Charles sighed. He waved two of the waitstaff away as they appeared in the path up to the house to help. “She’s probably forgotten about it by now.” 

“If only she was as frivolous with her donations.” Erik drawled. 

“If only.” Charles agreed.

They made their way up the ramp to the main door and were greeted by the head of housekeeping- Kris Allan. “Master Xavier, Mr. Lehnsherr,” she said. She smiled at them both as she dipped her head to them, pushing a stray lock of graying hair behind her ear. “Madame Xavier sends her warm regards- she’s terribly sorry she’s unable to great you herself.” 

“I’m sure.” Charles said. He would never give Mrs. Allan a hard time, and was glad she’d come to greet them at all. His mother was probably preoccupied with a bottle of brandy, but he wouldn’t voice it to save Mrs. Allan a little grace. 

“She’s preoccupied with a bottle of brandy, is she?” Erik had no such reservations. 

Mrs. Allan hid her laugh behind her hand, disguising it as a clearing of the throat. “Shall I show your friend to his room, Master Xavier?” 

“Charles, please.” He said, for what must have been the fiftieth time since first meeting the woman. “And, actually, Mr. Lehnsherr will be staying with me. Mother did tell you I was bringing a date this time, I hope?”

For a moment she simply blinked, almost startled. Then she broke into a wide, genuine smile. “Oh, Master Xavier, forgive me for over-stepping my boundaries but that is so wonderful to hear! For the longest time we’ve all thought that you two were just so charming together, hoping that perhaps…” She shook her head. “But no matter. Let me show you up to your room then. Are you hungry? I could have lunch brought up for the two of you while you unpack your things.” 

Charles smiled and pushed himself over the threshold, following behind Mrs. Allan. “That would be splendid, if you don’t mind. I don’t want to give your husband too much trouble.” Mr. Allan was the head of the kitchen- the two had been married a couple years back, after having worked together for so many years prior. It had been a lovely little ceremony; Charles had insisted on helping with the pay, but they’d politely denied him. He’d made sure they both got a good wedding bonus in their salaries afterwards anyway. 

“He’ll be delighted. I can’t wait to tell him that you and Mr. Lehnsherr have finally gotten together.” She seemed genuinely excited- even her thoughts were colored brightly with her happiness for them.

Charles felt a brief splash of guilt over tricking her, but he had to remember that if they weren’t, he’d be pushed off onto some girl. And maybe that girl would have been delightful by some oddity, and maybe he would have genuinely liked her, or even have dated her, but… that girl would not have been Erik. 

Fuck. Hank was right. 

This was a horrible idea. 

When they reached their room- the one Charles had made his own back when he was in high school and had relocated to the first floor to make transportation in his wheelchair easier- Mrs. Allan left them to get lunch. 

Erik flopped back on the bed, gracefully setting their things all on the floor by the dresser and out of the way. “If she brings back BLTs I’m picking all the lettuce and tomato out of yours.” He declared. Several times the house has mistakenly served Erik bacon, and several times Erik had politely reminded them. Mr. and Mrs. Allan always quickly fixed things, but they weren’t used to guests who kept kosher. Three times Mr. Allan had served them one of Charles’s favorite lunches- the classic bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich. Erik was never very surprised. 

“I’m certain they’ll remember this time, my friend.” Mrs. Allan had consented to Charles popping into her mind every now and then, so he quickly sent her a mental notice- _Pardon, it’s Charles. Just a reminder that Erik doesn’t eat pork._

Her reply was painted light-yellow with gratitude. _Thank you for the reminder- we do tend to forget!_

He left her at that, smiling at Erik, who gave him a look. 

“Did you…?”

Charles grinned. “My friend, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Erik just laughed and shook his head. “Well, what do you say, Charles? Do we unpack now or stare at the luggage for a while hoping it will miraculously unpack itself?” 

“Well-“ He was interrupted by a sharp rap on the door. “Yes?” He called. 

Mrs. Allan stuck her head back in. “Charles, Mr. Lehnsherr.” She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “I regret to inform you-“

“Nice try, Raven.” Charles cut her off. 

Raven’s form flickered out of the disguise and into her natural blue form. She narrowed her eyes dangerously at Charles, saying, “Stay out of my head!” 

“My dear,” Charles drawled, “I didn’t need to go into your head to see you weren’t Mrs. Allan. She never calls me Charles.” 

Raven frowned. “Oh.” 

“Mystique.” Erik greeted. 

“Magneto.” She returned. 

“Mister Mind.” Charles said to his reflection in the window next to him. 

They both turned to glare at him. 

“What?” He laughed. “I can’t have a cool mutant name, too?” 

“Sure, Mister Mind.” Raven drawled, tone dry and barren as the Gobi desert. 

“Surely you’ve thought up something better than that, Charles.” Erik rolled over on the bed until he was within arm’s reach of Charles, grinning. “The Master of Manipulation? Teslapath? Book Lover the Third?”

“Oh, bugger off, both of you.” Charles huffed, though it was in good humor. “I could always copy you, Erik. Telapatho.”

Erik wrinkled his nose. “Charles, really.”

Raven laughed at the both of them. “Do you two ever change? It’s been _forever_ since I saw you guys and you’re still bickering?”

“I beg your pardon.” Charles started. 

“Oh, but we have changed, my dear.” Erik began. He smiled wide, hoping to intimidate her, but she’d never been easily ruffled by his grins. “Or haven’t you noticed?”

She narrowed her eyes at the two of them. “… Notice what?” When neither of them answered her right away she narrowed her eyes further, into two tiny yellow slits. “I swear if you two got matching lame tattoos or something…” 

“Oh nothing so drastic as that.” Erik teased. He stood and stepped up to Charles, leaning down to throw his arm over the telepath’s shoulder. “Hadn’t you noticed all our luggage is in the same room?”

Raven’s eyes went wide. “No!” She gasped. 

“Oh yes.” Erik assured her, wickedly. 

“You’re- no. Nuh-uh. No way!” She pointed at Erik, almost threatening in a way. “You don’t get to sleep with _both_ Xavier siblings! That’s breaking a rule!” 

Charles spluttered. “Wh- _both_!?” 

Erik’s mind nudged his. _Freshman year, maybe three times, mostly because we were bored and you were ignoring us. Thought I told you, sorry._

Out loud, Erik said, “I’m afraid I’ve been fucking your dear brother senseless on the daily, Mystique.” He shrugged, the very picture of arrogance. “You had your chance.”

“Ew.” She said. “Like I could put up with _you_.” 

“You told me we were best friends. You made me a friendship bracelet, Mystique.” He reached out for one of their bags, which opened with a dull click. Something flew out of it and into Erik’s waiting palm. “I still have it.” 

She turned an interesting shade of dark blue, her form flickering briefly so that her hair was blonde instead of red, before going back to usual. “Shut up!” She yelled.

“You can’t escape this, Mystique. Best friends for life, it says so right here.” He proudly displayed the little metal beads, grinning. 

“You two are the _worst_.” She said. She turned on her heel and headed for the door, but then paused. “Oh, wait, I forgot- my whole reason for coming up here. When did you guys get in?”

“Just now.” Charles said. “Mrs. Allan showed us up. What about you?”

“Yesterday afternoon. It’s been fucking boring. I swam around the pool like, eighty times. There is _nothing_ to do in this house." 

“We have a magnificent library, Raven-“

“That’s why your ‘cool mutant name’ is Nerd Man and not something bad-ass like Mystique.” Raven said. She paused. “Or Magneto.” 

She and Erik met in half way for a high-five. Charles sighed and thought about dumping Erik on the spot, but by the colorful cloud of emotions pouring off both his ‘lover’ and his sister, he could tell the two really had missed each other. 

“I’m gonna go so you two can unpack and stuff.” Raven said after she was done making weird faces as Erik. She shifted into a copy of Charles and said, “Perchance you could find me amidst the garden when you’re finished presently?”

“I do not sound like that.” 

“Oh, pish-posh, I sound nothing of the sort.” Raven mocked. “Now Raven you must leave so I can snog my gentleman friend in peace.” 

“Raven!”

She shifted back to herself and ran out of the room cackling maniacly, slamming the door behind her. 

Erik just looked at Charles. 

“What?” 

“She really does sound like-“

“So help me, Erik, finish that sentence and you can sleep on the couch tonight, fake boyfriend or not.” 

Erik just laughed. 

A minute later, Mrs. Allan showed back up with cucumber sandwiches, no bacon. Erik grinned at both her and Charles and, as he dug in, said, “Best boyfriend ever.” 

_I really could be._ Charles thought, privately. _For you_.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this has nothing to do with the fic but I am full of rage and I needed a soap box to scream on, and, well, here it is: what the FUCK is Marvel doing??? Making Magneto join Hydra???? He's a jew! He's a holocaust survivor! His family was killed by nazis, and he was tortured by nazis! In what fucking world would he JOIN a nazi organization???!?!? Get that fucking idiotic shit out of my face, Marvel. What the fuck. 
> 
> Anyway. Enjoy my universe where Marvel doesn't fuck Magneto's character up to the point of being unrecognizable. Join me in my next fanfic- an AU where Marvel doesn't fucking put good men in line with nazis, for fuck's sake, I thought I escaped this when I abandoned the Captain America ship.
> 
> ...
> 
> This chapter is called "Erik Scandalizes Sharon and Makes Charles Go Doki-Doki"

Dinner was a strained affair.

Erik allowed Charles to pick out an outfit that wasn’t too ‘fuck the government and fuck humans,’ in order to make them look “respectable” for dinner. Erik had to admit, when Charles wasn’t dressing like an eighty year old man, he did have a good sense of fashion. 

“Why, Charles,” he said, “You look entirely too fuckable in that shirt.” It was okay to say the things he was always thinking anyway, now, because he and Charles were “Dating” and Charles would never know everything he said was true. Charles would laugh at Erik's very true thoughts, thinking they were a joke, and the world would continue on as if nothing had changed.

Charles flushed. “Oh, thank you, Erik.” 

… _That’s it? No witty retort?_ He thought to himself. _He must really be shaken about tonight._

They were, after all, going to see Sharon. Sharon, who’d been told that Charles had brought a date. Sharon, who was probably pleased as punch thinking that Charles had left Erik at the school, for once. Sharon, who would faint under the implications that her son was not only a mutant, but a practicing homosexual as well. 

Perish the thought.

As they strolled down the hall and towards the dinning room, Charles chewed at his bottom lip, making it even redder than usual. He was clearly nervous, though Erik didn’t really understand why. His mother knew Charles was bisexual- he’d told her often enough- so it wasn’t as thought he was going to be coming out to her. Maybe the problem was Erik. 

“Everything alright?”

Charles blinked. “Oh. Yes. I’m just nervous about how she’ll react. She thinks the most awful things sometimes…” He flashed a quick smile. “And I have to admit I’m a little worried about you behaving yourself.” 

Erik’s mind blinked back to the last time they’d been at the manor. They’d ended up leaving earlier than expected, late at night, because Erik and Sharon had gotten into a near screaming match over politics. Charles had just sat there, resigned as he shook his head, until Sharon demanded they both leave. Erik had been happy to go.

“Me, misbehave? Oh Charles, never. Your mother loves me.” 

Charles snorted. “Really, my friend, if you can say that with a straight face your talents are wasted in architecture. The theater department would be lucky to have you.” 

“And you should join the comedy club.” Erik muttered. 

Charles threw back his head and laughed.

They were in the dining room, then, where Mrs. Xavier sat at the head of a long table. Charles stopped short at the same time that Erik did- they both saw the same two visitors at once. Kurt Marko was sitting at Sharon’s right, and two chairs down from him was Cain Marko.

_Well,_ Erik thought at Charles. _Looks like dinner just got a bit more interesting._

_As if it wasn’t going to be interesting enough._ Charles thought back. _I can’t believe I didn’t sense them here. I need to shield less._

_No fault of your own, Charles, it’s a big house with a lot of minds._

_Still… hard to miss those two. They’re like a bad smell- it’s hard to ignore._

Erik swallowed back a laugh.

Mystique was four chairs down from Sharon on the right- she’d probably intended to sit next to Erik and Charles before Cain had sat down across from her, and then moved over to not sit directly across from him. It was a very Mystique thing to do. 

“Charles.” Sharon said. She spotted Erik and visibly tried to keep her expression neutral. “I was told you were bringing a date.” 

“I did.” Charles said. Erik had to give him credit- his voice didn’t so much as waver. “I believe you’ve met my boyfriend, mother.”

“Erik.” She said, dryly.

“Sharon.” He returned. 

Sharon sighed. “Surely you must be joking, Charles. I told you to bring a nice young girl-“

“Erik is a nice young man.” 

Mystique disguised her snort as a cough. Erik shot her a look.

“What the fuck?” Cain said. He looked like he was trying not to laugh. “This is too good. Charlie’s a fag?!”

Charles sighed. “I’ve established my sexuality many times. This shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone.” 

“Hmph.” Kurt pointedly didn’t look at them.

“I thought you were joking!” Cain barked a laugh. “You’ve been taking it up the-“

“Actually,” Erik smoothly interrupted, “He’s been giving it up the. Quite well, might I add.” He looked at Charles and winked. 

Silence fell over the table. Mystique started ‘coughing’ again, deep blue with flushed amusement. 

Charles rubbed his temples. “Anyway.” He grit through his teeth. “Dinner?”

Erik decided to sit next to Raven and across from Cain- the better to intimidate the little brat- so he pulled away the chair next to his spot for Charles. Charles wheeled himself into the empty slot with a grateful smile aimed Erik’s way. 

Erik tried not to preen, but being a good boyfriend was a unique pleasure he’d never really felt. Not that he’d been a bad boyfriend in the past, but… he’d never really made time for his other flings. Mostly because they were just that; flings. 

Mystique leaned over quite obviously and whispered, “Smooth moves, lover boy.”

“And how is your love life going, again?” He whispered back, grinning. 

Raven glared at him. 

Mr. Allan chose that moment to bring in dinner, a trail of cooks and servers setting the food all out at the head of the table. As soon as Erik saw that they were being served smoked ham he sighed. At least the green beans looked good- wait, no, they had bacon in them. What the fuck. 

“Mr. Lehnsherr.” one of the cooks leaned around him, setting down a large plate of food. “Master Xavier alerted us to your requirements this afternoon, so we were able to purchase kosher food to prepare for your this evening. Please let us know if there is anything else we can do for you or if any of the food doesn’t meet your requirements.” 

Erik blinked down at the food. It looked like lamb, smothered in some sort of rich red sauce. They’d also made him mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, a few fresh rolls of bread, and a salad. 

“Oh.” He said. He looked over at Charles, who was grinning wide, and then back to the cook. “Thank you, this… this is perfect.” And it really was. 

_There is a kosher bakery and butcher in town._ Charles thought to him. _The staff stocked up for the rest of the week this time. Sorry it took so long to get it like this, my friend._

Erik grinned. Leave it to Charles to be so wonderful about the little things. Erik was used to just picking around the things he couldn’t have and eating what he could, which was a little bit of a hassle and sometimes probably not entirely in accordance with Jewish law, since he was never really sure how the meat had been processed. He was used to it, though, and it had stopped bugging him a while ago. Of course Charles wouldn’t just let it stay like that in his old home.

_Thank you._ Erik projected. _This is wonderful._

While they’d been communicating telepathically, Sharon had already started dinner conversation with the rest of the table. Cain was talking about how school was going, but they’d ignored him to the end of his speech. 

“And what about you, Raven?” Sharon said.

“Mystique.” She muttered. 

Sharon rolled her eyes. “I allow you to wear that- that skin at the dinner table, Raven, but I’ll allow for no foolish nicknames.” 

Erik shot Charles a look. It said, _see?_

“The only people who I let call me Raven anymore are Charles and Irene.” The girl said. “Raven’s just not my name. Get used to it.” 

Sharon bristled. 

“Now see,” Kurt said, “It’s stuff like this that makes us humans so confused about you mutants. You won’t look human even if you can, you don’t wanna be called by human names- can’t you just pretend? It’s ridiculous that us normal people have to put up with this nonsense.”

Erik very discreetly twisted the man’s fork so that the prongs were uneven. 

Raven rolled her eyes and then flashed into the very image of Kurt. “Is this better for you delicate humans?” She drawled in his voice. “I look human now! Happy?”

Erik bit back a laugh. _Serves them right._

Kurt went beet red. He looked like he was about to explode, or pop, or simply melt, but before he could do any of that Sharon said, “Raven, no shifting at the table.” 

Raven turned back into her blue form. “Mystique,” she said in Sharon’s voice, “No shifting at the table.” 

Charles coughed. It wasn’t very convincing. 

“Now see here-“ 

“School’s going good.” Mystique cut her mother off. “I’m liking it way better than MCU. No offense,” she added, looking over at Erik and Charles. 

“MCU isn’t for everyone.” Charles said, simply. 

“I’m liking textiles.” Mystique continued. “We’ve been making some fabrics that haven’t existed before now. And we’ve got a cat walk coming up next month so we’re all kicking it into high gear. I’ve gotten tons of people asking me to be their model.”

“Because you can look like a model?” Sharon asked. 

Mystique rolled her eyes. “No, actually, some people actually like the way I look normally. Blue skin is considered very beautiful.” She looked over towards Charles and Erik and continued talking- at them rather than at Sharon. “There’s this one girl in my class who’s making this really cool white dress for me, and the material is like nothing I’ve ever seen. It mimics my mutation and shifts with me. It looks like she’s going to actually get an award for it, never mind straight A’s.”

“That’s marvelous!” Charles said. “You’ll have to invite us to the show.” 

“Sure. I’ll text you.” She smiled, genuinely happy, and then continued. “So I’m definitely going to model that dress- and I might even shift on stage to show off the material, but I’m not sure yet. There are a couple others I might take up, too- some really cool designs from other mutants. I don’t really want to model for a human yet, even if they are looking for mutant models, just because I want to help our community first, you know?”

“Mutant and proud.” Erik recited at her. 

She grinned and bumped his fist with hers. “Mutant and proud.” 

The human side of the table looked uncomfortable. Good. 

Sharon cleared her throat. “And what about you, Charles?” She elegantly swirled the wine in her glass around. “How is school?”

“Well, mother, I’m sure you know I’m a mutant as well, so I’m not sure my update will make you any more comfortable than my dear sister’s did.” 

Sharon stared him down. Her look could have dried up the Atlantic. 

He cleared his throat. “Right.” He said. “Well, at the end of the year I’ll have my second PhD, this time specifically focused on the X-gene. Hank and I are considering starting in more classes before the end of the year so that I can get my third before I become a professor in another year, but nothing is definite just yet. MCU has been wonderful in cooperating with me, and they want to put me on as a substitute for next year. They’re considering my offer to engineer and teach a class to help mutants control their gifts and explore their mutation heavily, and I’m quite excited about that.” 

“Well.” Sharon said. “It sounds like you’re… working.” 

“Do you do anything that _doesn’t_ have to do with being a mutie?” Cain muttered.

“Well I’d say ‘breathing’ but, well, I do that as a mutant, so, I’m not sure.” he looked to Erik. “Do I do anything that doesn’t have to do with being a mutant, dear?”

“You do me but- oops. Also a mutant.” Erik grinned. 

Sharon looked properly scandalized, while Cain and Kurt both looked as though they’d eaten something sour. Erik counted that as a score for their side of the table and grinned, catching Kurt fiddling with the ruined prongs of his fork in confusion. 

“Please,” Sharon groaned, rubbing her temples, “Not at the table.” 

_On the table. Now there’s an idea._ Erik thought. 

Charles choked on his water. 

“And I don’t suppose you want to know how I’m doing, mommy dearest?” Erik said, cheekily. 

She looked like she was waiting for the fourth glass of wine to kick in. “I don’t suppose I can stop you.” She grumbled. 

“Loving MCU.” Erik said. “I haven’t crushed anyone’s car this year, so I’d say things are going pretty good. Melted some keys, but I have followed through on keeping my promise to Charles. No flattened cars.” 

Sharon leaned back in her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Been doing gay stuff. Mutant stuff. Gay mutant stuff.” He nodded to himself. “With your son.” 

Cain mimed gagging himself. Kurt looked like he had a fishhook imbedded in face or something similarly painful and embarrassing. 

“The works. In fact, just the other day-“

“Yes, _thank you_ , Erik.” Sharon cut him off. “Where is Mr. Allan? I think desert is in order.” 

“So early, mother?” Charles chuckled. 

“It’s been a long day.” She said shortly. She held up her empty to glass to be refilled by one of the waitstaff. Glass number five and desert hadn’t even been served. Astounding. 

Desert was a rich chocolate cake served ala mode, to Mystique’s delight. Charles looked similarly pleased as he dug in to the vanilla ice cream on top of his cake. He tapped his temple, likely sending out a mental thank-you to the cooks. 

Erik was similarly pleased. He wasn’t big on cake, but this stuff almost seemed to melt in his mouth, and the deepness of the chocolate was nearly seducing his taste buds into eloping. 

_Careful, darling._ Charles sounded amused. _If you start moaning out loud I’m not so sure my mother will be able to make it through the night without that second bottle of wine._

_Oh, now I want to moan. Thank you, Charles._

_Always, old friend._

 

_-_

 

After dinner, Charles lead Erik back to their room. And wasn’t that a rush- thinking of it as _their_ room, not his? Charles had slept in the same bed as Erik too many times to count, but under the guise of a couple, it felt a little different. Charles let Erik take the bathroom first to get ready for bed, changing quickly into his pajamas and a pair of long, thick socks that Erik had bought him for Christmas a couple years ago. 

A lot of people say socks are, well, a rather lame gift. Charles begged to differ- they were a very thoughtful gift. Erik and Hank had put aside their differences that year and had conspired to make a pair of socks for winter with tiny fibers inside that would act as a thermometer- alerting Charles if his feet got too cold. They’d made four pairs, all of which could be thrown in the wash with the rest of his clothes, and then had Erik had found some incredibly warm, long socks on top of that for the rest of the year. Needless to say, Charles nearly cried. 

Erik came out of the bathroom in his underwear and tank-top, bare feet quick over the cold wood floor. “All yours.” He said, diving into bed. 

Charles laughed, shaking his head, and then went into brush his teeth and finish getting ready. Everything about the situation was familiar- they’d done this time and time again- and yet, it was thrilling to think that the rest of the house thought they’d be going to bed as a pare. Too many times Charles had slipped and allowed himself to day dream about laying back in Erik’s arms, the both of them reading before bed. It was an idle fantasy that gripped the very center of his being and violently yanked it around. He’d gone so far as to allow himself to think about Erik absent-mindedly kissing the crown of his head in vivid detail. As he went about his nighttime routine, he found those thoughts creeping back into his mind, no matter how hard he pushed them away. 

God, what if Erik spooned him? Wouldn’t that just be- be groovy? 

Or what if _he_ spooned _Erik_? He’d push his nose into the crook of Erik’s neck and inhale the lingering scent of his cologne, soaking up Erik’s warmth, their thoughts tangled together above them like nebulas twisting in the night sky. 

… _Get ahold of yourself._ Charles berated himself. He could feel the blush high up on his cheeks. _There will be no spooning or cuddling or forehead kisses, Charles._ He’d been lucky enough to hold Erik’s hand every now and then- what more did he want? 

_More._ That’s what he wanted. 

Was it selfish to want more from Erik? Erik was already giving him more than any other person in the world ever had, and yet Charles dared to want for more? It was only human, wasn’t it? 

He didn’t need to think on it. Charles wheeled himself out of the bathroom and into the main room, past Erik’s side of the bed and to his own. He stared at the mattress for a moment, having forgotten how much higher it was than the one at his dorm. 

“Mind if I help?” Erik asked, face pressed into his pillow. 

“Not at all.” Charles grinned when Erik lazily flung a hand out, lifting the wheelchair until the seat was lined up with the mattress. “Thank you, Erik.” 

Charles folded the arm of the chair back and slipped from it and onto the bed, pulling his legs up after him. Once he was settled, Erik lowered the chair back to the ground, hand flopping down like deadweight on the mattress. 

“Lazy.” Charles teased. 

“Tired.” Erik said. “There is a grave difference.” 

“Grave.” Charles snorted. “I’m sure.” He pushed his body down further, so he could lay back, sighing when his feet got caught in the covers. Erik kicked them up without prompting. 

“See?” he said. “Not lazy.” 

“Thank you, _dear_ , that’s very sweet.” Charles laughed. He tried to get comfortable, but his back was aching after a day of driving. He longingly thought of the form of the pillow he’d left back at the dorm- too scared he’d forget it at the manor if he brought it. He hadn’t thought he’d need it, but of course, that meant he would, now, wouldn’t it? 

“What are you sighing about, Charles?” Erik grumbled. 

Charles sent him a brief flash of his discomfort- the odd cramping in his back that was made even more discomforting by the way it tapered off in some places and roared to life in others. His nerves, he bitterly thought, needed to get it together. 

“Ah.” Erik sat up, grabbing one of the many extra pillows they’d put on the floor next to Erik’s side. “Sit up.” 

Chalres did as he was asked, to the bed of his abilities, and smiled when Erik shoved a pillow under his lower back. 

“How’s that?”

Charles laid back down, testing. It was too far down, but he could fix it himself- no need to bother Erik.

“I see you’re planning, Charles, and if you don’t let me help you I’m going to tell everyone that you snore.” 

“I don’t snore!” Charles protested. 

“My word over yours.” Erik said. “Too far up, or too far down?”

“… down.” Charles muttered. 

Erik leaned over and pushed his hand underneath Charles, pulling the pillow up a few inches. “Better?” He asked. 

The pillow was… too flat, actually, if they’d rolled it up- but then it wouldn’t be smooth enough a slope- 

“Charles I can’t actually read minds. That’s your mutation, remember?”

Charles rolled his eyes, but gave in. He sent the problem Erik’s way. 

“Easy.” Erik said. He leaned over the side of the bed to retrieve another pillow- one of the decorative calendar shaped ones. “Sit up.” 

Erik put the little circular pillow underneath the regular one he’d already placed. Charles leaned back, trying it out, and then sighed in relief. “That’s wonderful, thank you.” 

“Are you lying to me?”

“No.” 

“Are you _certain_?” 

“Yes, Erik, good lord. Go to sleep you bloody terrorist.” 

Erik barked out a laugh and threw himself back down in bed, curling up on his side to face Charles. “Wake me up when you need to lay on your side.” Erik yawned. “I’ll move the pillows for you.” 

Charles flushed, glad that Erik had already closed his eyes. It was Erik’s unflappable, easy caring that really did him in- he took everything about you as simple fact and moved with it, easily navigating every bump and turn in the road without complaint. ‘It is what it is,’ he’d say, without any trace of irony or bitterness, and he’d move on. It was something Charles had always admired about him. 

“Erik?”

“Hm?” Erik didn’t even crack open an eye. He must have been sleepy from the drive- long trips seemed to have that affect on him. 

“Thank you.” Charles whispered. His heart was hammering in his chest as he built himself up for the next words- he’d said them often enough, but everything meant more, laying in the dark. “I love you.” 

Erik smiled. “I love you too, Charles.” 

His heart spluttered and died before roaring back to live with more zeal than before. Charles hid his face in his hands and took in a long breath, telling himself not to get worked up and excited over something so mundane. Of course Erik loved him- they were best friends. It didn’t mean Erik was _in_ love with him. He needed to get ahold of himself. 

After all, he couldn’t stay up all night pining. The morning was going to bring new horrors as the socials began, and the pretending really started. Secretly… he couldn’t wait. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no real pattern in my switch between Charles and Erik's perspective; I do what I want.  
> Anyway, we'll be getting to the actual juicy plot pretty soon here, this is the first 'day' they're gone, and after this, things get more interesting. So think of this as the lay-over? I dunno. 
> 
> This chapter is called "Erik Has Feelings"

Erik wondered how Charles had talked him into this. 

Admittedly, Erik owed Charles a lot. Like, a lot a lot. Charles had been there to pull him out of jail when he was arrested for the first time. Charles had read over his speeches for his public protests to make sure there was nothing incriminating or factually incorrect in them. Charles had been the first person who he could tell about his parents without feeling like he was under some sort of microscope. Charles… was everything. 

… But even if Charles was everything to him, this was pushing it. 

They were only half way into breakfast and Erik was already seething with barely concealed rage. A table down there were a group of well off base-line women talking about politics; specifically mutant politics. They all seemed to agree with each other just fine, but Erik was twenty seconds away from throwing his glass on the ground and stomping over to scream about how mutants were not inherently violent. He had a good line worked up- ‘you fucking high and mighty humans kill five times as many mutants as mutants kill anyone!’- but Charles reached over and calmly placed a hand on his wrist. 

They’d been seated with another couple, who’d been very interested in keeping to themselves for the most part. The man, Daniel, knew Charles, and they got along fine, but Daniel seemed to prefer to keep to himself. His girlfriend seemed the same.

“This is good.” The girlfriend had introduced herself but Erik had been distracted by the way the garden’s natural light made Charles’s eyes look. She pointed at her crepes. “Do you like crepes, Charles?”

Rich people loved small talk. The smaller the better. Charles was an exception to that rule for the most part, but he never shrugged anyone off. “Oh, I do. These are wonderful- I love the orange.” He smiled at her, darling as usual. The girl blushed and looked like she was wondering why she’d ended up with the standard straight white boy on her left. 

Or maybe that was just Erik’s interpretation. He’d sure be wondering about then. 

He heard the word ‘mutie’ from the table over and stood, chair scraping through the grass and uprooting it in the process. Charles very calmly reached out and grabbed his sleeve. 

“Erik, darling.” He said, “What about you? Do you like the crepes?”

“I’ll make you a damned sign that says so using that table.” He pulled his sleeve, but Charles was resilient. “Charles, let me go.” 

“I’m not sure it would be a good idea.” Charles said. With his free hand he reached for his teacup and took a long sip. “Those women have enough money to sue you into poverty, Erik. I’m not sure even I could get you a lawyer that would dig you out of that mess completely unscathed.” 

“It’s my duty-“

“Not every fight is your fight, Erik.” He tugged on him. “Sit.”

Erik went down with a scowl. _Fucking pacifist._ He thought- as loudly as he pleased, because Charles should have been standing up for their kind, consequences be damned. 

Charles rolled his eyes. _I understand you’re angry, but I think revenge on these kinds of people needs to be more sophisticated. You can’t just go in guns blazing, Erik; if anything, you’d be making their point for them._

_I don’t care._ He mentally snarled. _They-_

_Watch and learn._

Charles pushed away from the table, dabbing at his mouth politely with his napkin. “Daniel, Susan, please excuse us for a moment.”

“Sure.” Daniel said. He looked a little relieved that the current source of his girlfriend’s gaze was taking an absence. 

“Hurry back.” Susan or whatever her name was smiled happily at Charles. For some reason, that made Erik even angrier. He saw himself in his minds’ eye, leaning over the table and snapping “MINE” at her. 

He took in a deep, calming breath, and told himself to get a grip. Just because he was playing boyfriend with Charles didn’t mean he had any sort of claim on the telepath. Even if they were dating for real, he wouldn’t be allowed to go around snapping at people in jealousy. He had issues, but Charles wouldn’t excuse them even if they were dating. 

Besides. She _so_ wasn’t Charles’s type.

Not that he knew Charles’s type, but, well, it wasn’t her. 

Probably.

Hopefully. 

“Focus.” Charles said, and then lead them away and over to the table that was the case of Erik’s ire. “Clear your mind, my friend, you won’t enjoy this if you’re frazzled.” 

_I’ll show you frazzled when I'm done with you, Charles._ He thought, and then promptly banished that particular train of thought to the depths of his soul, never to see the light of day again. Thoughts like that about your best friend were taboo in general, but about your telepath friend? Fucking forget it. 

“Margret, Debra, Katherine.” Charles dipped his head to each woman in turn, smiling at them pleasantly. 

They perked up at the sight of him. “Oh, hello, Charles!” One of them said. 

“Good to see you, again.” Said another. 

_These women are vicious,_ Charles said to Erik’s mind. _They think quite loudly, and never anything I wish to hear. Katherine over there is the least offensive right now, and she’s wondering how much she’d have to pay you to get you into her bed, not sure if that’s a confidence boost or not._

_Everyone wants to get me into their bed,_ Erik thought back, _not really flattered to know that extends to mutant-phobic old women._

_She’s only forty-nine, darling, hardly an old woman yet._

_Your point?_

“So glad to see you’re dealing with the divorce well, Katherine.” Charles said, voice easily sympathetic. “I thought when you lost most of the money, you might not feel like you would get along as well with Debra and Margret.” 

The two swiveled their heads over and stared at Katherine. “What?”

“You lost most of the money?” 

Katherine fidgeted. “I’ve got plenty of money left.” She said, forcibly calm.

“And Debra!” Charles continued, seemingly oblivious to the tension he’d created. “You’re not afraid to be seen out and about after that rumor. I’m glad.”

“Rumor?” Margret said. 

Charles nodded solemnly. “There was a rumor floating about that some awful person started, I can’t imagine what it was like for you, dear. If someone said I’d been having an affair with two different men, why, I’d just about die of embarrassment! And those photos. God, they really were a good photoshop job- I’m glad you cleared that up. It really did look like your pool boy and Helen’s son!” 

Katherine and Margret turned to Debra, like sharks smelling blood in the water.

Charles tutted, shaking his head, and then settled on Margret. “Oh, and thank you so much for letting my mother know about Louise’s gambling. We’ve been praying for her.” 

Debra gasped. “ _You_ were the one who told her about that?” 

Charles smiled. “I’m sorry to go so soon, ladies, but I just wanted to pop in and have a quick hello. You all look simply lovely, I can’t wait to catch up at the gala.” And with that, he rolled back over to their table, leaving the three women to descend into madness. 

It wasn’t how Erik would have gone about things, but he had to admit- Charles was good. He’d fucked up their days and relationships, put a stop to their talking about mutant matters, and he’d made Erik feel a good bit better- like the whole speech and scare wasn’t even worth it. 

“Well.” He said. He settled back in his vacated seat and took a gulp of his coffee, which was starting to go cold. “That was fast.”

Charles grinned. “We all have our talents.” 

“You like those women…?” Daniel asked, cautiously. 

“Oh, heavens, no, but I’ll deny it till I’m blue in the face if that gets back to them.” He shook his head. “There’s being honest, there’s kissing ass, and then, well, there is social suicide. I’m not quite ready to have horrible rumors circling around everything I do from now until I die, thank you very much. Those women would make sure I did if I spoke against them.” 

Erik’s old flame of rage returned, but Charles simply patted him on the back. 

“Chin up, darling, it’s just the way this works.” 

“They’re not very nice.” Daniel said. “You’re pro-mutant, right?”

Charles was out, but Charles Francis Xavier wasn’t out publicly. “I am.” 

“They were pushing for my mom to vote against that bill a couple months ago. It really stressed her out, you know? I hated seeing her like that. Those women just aren’t nice.”

Erik snorted. The kid had a mild way of putting it, but he was trying. “And what do you think, Daniel?” he asked. “About the bill?”

“I’m going to vote for it. Mutants are people too.” He smiled. 

“Yeah.” Susan said. “My cousin is a mutant. She’s got eagle eyes.” 

“Oh?” Charles leaned forward, instantly captivated.

_Here we go._ Erik thought. He sighed and leaned back, ready to let Charles take the conversation and turn it into an interview.

Charles paused then. _Erik,_ he thought. _My mother is looking at us. Would you…?_

Erik leaned over and slipped his arm around Charles, casual and affectionate. 

_Thank you, yes, that’s lovely._

Charles and Susan started to talk about Susan’s cousin, but Erik wasn’t paying attention.

Even with the arm of the wheelchair between them, there was something comfortable and right about having his arm around Charles. He was a grown man, damn it, and he casually held and touched Charles all the time- one arm around the man’s waste shouldn’t have made his heart splutter. And yet, it did; as usual, Charles was the anomaly in his world. 

He’d been in love with Charles since… forever, really. He remembered the exact moment he realized they were friends, and about two seconds after that he’d been struct by the realization that he wanted to be more than that. After that initial epiphany, it had only gotten worse. He started thinking about what Charles would like to eat if he ever cooked breakfast, or what flowers Charles would like best, of if Charles would smell better if he used Erik’s shampoo, or what Charles would look like in Erik’s clothes, or, god, in his bed-

That was dangerous territory, though. The second he started thinking about Charles with his clothes off, the day was scrap. All he’d think about for the rest of the day were what noises he’d make, how his lips would look, what he’d say, how he’d move- _Erik, Erik, oh, Erik-_

He shook his head to get rid of the thought. Charles would have sensed his more-than-platonic thoughts at one time or another and, if the telepath had been interested, he would have hinted or made the first move. Charles felt nothing more than friendship for him, and Erik had to respect those boundaries- possessive nature and overwhelming love put aside. 

That didn’t stop him from being head-over-heels for Charles. Before Charles, he’d felt like his anger was eating him alive; like he’d never escape it. He’d just been livid, all the time, at everything- lost and alone in a world with no taste for men like him. When his parents had died, he’d felt like the world had ended. He’d not thought he’d ever be happy or careless again, like he’d be constantly carrying that weight of hate and rage and pain on his shoulders, without stop, without rest. 

And then there had been Charles. Beautiful, wonderful Charles, who’d swept into his world yelling, “Anyone in here from the mutant protest? I’ve got bail!” Charles hadn’t tried to cut away his anger, like so many others had before him. Even Raven, who’d been Erik’s best friend, had thought of Erik’s rage as a poison inside of him that needed to be burned with use. 

Not Charles. Charles had tamed that anger; had taught Erik how to contain it and train it, so that he used it instead of the other way around. He’d breathed life back into the tranquility and love cooped up in the very back of Erik’s mind, promising him that he could love again, that it wouldn’t always be pain, that one day he’d be loved back, and that love wouldn’t be taken away from him. 

Charles was everything good. Charles was, realistically, probably the only reason he wasn’t still feared by the students passing in the halls- the only reason he wasn’t in jail, or at large as a young terrorist. 

And maybe Charles would only ever be his best friend. His ‘old friend.’ Erik could live with that, so long as he didn’t lose Charles. In the end, their friendship meant everything to Erik, and he wouldn’t trade it even to have Charles in his bed, naked and falling apart. 

He’d never thought he’d feel that way about anyone. But then, he’d never really thought he’d fall in love. 

“- that’s actually the B2 mutation,” Charles was saying, stuck in lector-mode as Susan leaned forward, listening in interest. “It’s often over-looked as a mutation at all, but it’s very important-“

Erik sighed and leaned into Charles, resting his head on the other man’s shoulder. Things would go back to normal when they got back to University, but until then… he was happy to pretend. 

He held on to Charles, just a little bit tighter. 

 

-

 

The schedule for the day hadn’t mentioned they’d be separated. Charles had laid it all out very nicely for Erik- garden party at the Garcia’s for breakfast. A couple of hours at home to do homework they’d been given for the break, lunch, and then a dinner party with a couple of business families at the Bjorn, and finally home for the night.

Erik had gotten all the way to the dinner phase, happily helping Charles out of the car and into his chair, and into the restaurant before the illusion of comfort was shattered. 

The first born of each family was at the long table with their parent(s) as they would inherit the company. The rest of the guests- assistants, family members, boyfriends, girlfriends, guests…. were all sent to what Erik had lovingly recognized as the kids table. 

Jewish family dinners has prepared him for this. For years he’d been rejected from the big table and sent to sit with his idiot cousins. He was getting flashbacks as he reluctantly sat down next to Mystique, who looked for all the world like she didn’t understand they’d been demoted. He never thought that once he graduated to the adults table he’d be sent back down. And now, here he was- at the kiddie table, for Charles. 

He was going to kill him. 

“Hey, sup?” Mystique slouched into him, grinning wide. “Been a while, bestie.” 

“You’re drunk.” He realized. And white-blue-eyes-blond, but he decided not to say anything on that just yet. 

“Uh, duh. How else am I supposed to get through dinner? Charles wasn’t an alcoholic by chance.” 

That was still a touchy subject between Mystique and Charles, so Erik decided not to say anything about that either. “Your mother hates me,” was as good a subject as any, “She sent me here on purpose.”

Mystique shrugged. “Join the club.” 

“Charles made me eat before we came here.” Erik muttered. “But I’m not above cheating for some desert and booze.” 

“Hear-hear.” Raven giggled. 

He’d… kind of missed her. “So, how’s Irene?”

Raven’s face soured. “Irene.” She grumbled. “Is taken. Again.”

“And Azazel?” The good thing about Raven having two crushes was that it was never boring. “How’s he?”

“Not taken, but very far away. And as great as mutual masturbation sessions on Skype are, it’s not exactly a relationship. Not that I need one but where is it, you know?” She’d already placed her order, but when it was set down before her she just stared at it. “I ordered the five cheese sauce.” 

Erik looked at her food. “That looks like it.” 

“It’s red.”

“It’s sauce.”

“I was expecting. I don’t know. Like alfredo sauce.” She forked a noddle and licked it, to the horror of the boy sitting primly across from her. “I don’t like it.” She declared. 

“Spoiled rich brat.” Erik said. 

“Bitch I was an unspoiled starving orphan, so I get to be picky now that I can be.” She stuck her tongue out and flagged down a waiter to have him bring her something else. He didn’t seem surprised in the least- if anything, he seemed to think Mystique was being overly polite. 

“Anyway. Azazel.” She sighed. “Like him. But he’s far away.”

Erik stared at her. “You realize he’s a teleporter, don’t you?”

“Yeah, and teleporting is illegal in Nevada, stupid. He can’t just pop out on the border and wait while I cross the country to pick him up.” 

“Ah.” That made sense. Still, “Who would turn him in?”

“He’s red, he’s six-two, and he looks like Satan. I’m pretty sure people would notice him and, you know. Call in.” 

Well. “Have you set up protest groups on campus?”

“Duh. Who do you think I am? Once a brother, always a brother.” 

“Angel says I should change the name.” Erik snorted. “As if the Brotherhood of Mutants could be renamed.”

“Why does she wanna change it?”

“It doesn’t include female mutants as well as it could, I’ll admit.” 

“Screw it. You make it very clear you’re open to all genders of applicants, so long as they’re not base-line. The Brotherhood is a catchy name.” 

And that’s why she’d been his right-hand-man. Woman. Whatever, the name hardly mattered. “Thank you! She keeps arguing that it’s sexist. I’m pretty sure no body else gives a damn.” 

“Hellfire club doesn’t get any heat for only taking women.” She argued. 

“Well, yes, but women need groups of their own. Men already have the world, we really shouldn’t have our own special little clubs anymore- that’s pretty much what the government is. But women? You need places to band together. I like the Hellfire club.”

“It draws away potential applicants.” 

“It’s a potential ally to the brotherhood. They’ve got as much traction as we do, for the most part- they’re popping up in almost every campus. The humans have too many clubs of their own, we need more than one mutant-only club to band with, Mystique. It’s about power and numbers for mutants, not us personally.” 

“Hm. I like it. So if I defected over to the Hellfire club…” 

“I would never forgive you and disown you to the humans.” 

Raven laughed. “You fucking asshole. I’m going back to school and telling everyone that Magneto himself would throw his right-hand-woman under the bus.”

“I’m sure they’ll not hear it.” Erik Lehnsherr wasn’t much of anyone, but his name amongst the resistance group he’d founded was something that had gained following and lore. Magneto- his Brotherhood persona- was quite the figurehead. “I can do no wrong.” 

“Tell that to Charles.” She joked. 

“Charles and I are on the same page.” _Most of the time…_

“Oh yeah?” She grinned. “So finally confessing your love smoothed everything out?”

Erik had been worried about not telling Mystique about their scheme, namely because he was certain she’d turn and yell “you finally told him!” as soon as she found out. The fear had been unfounded, though; she’d been completely unsurprised, to his relief. 

But her reminder that she knew more than Charles did was a cold one. He couldn’t have her going around spouting those true facts to Charles, or the game would be ruined. Never mind the game- their everything could be ruined. Charles probably knew Erik was attracted to him, but in love? That was a quick way to make things awkward and strained. 

“Well.” He said, roughly.

She squinted. “You’re fucking kidding me.” 

She’d always been a sharp one. Of course she’d figure it out. Well, it had been a fun few hours of tricking her into thinking he and Charles were together, but nothing was built to last Mystique, now, was it?

“You guys are just dating casually!? You haven’t broken out the L word!?”

Oh. Well, she always acted smarter than she was anyway. “Shut up.” 

“I can’t believe you. Or my brother. You guys are fucking idiots. Can’t you see he’s crazy about you!?” She gestured at Charles- or, rather, his back- quite a ways away at the other table. 

“I’m so sure.” Erik rolled his eyes. 

“Erik, what are you afraid of? If you’re dating, Charles has to like you!” 

_Except that we’re not dating, so he really doesn’t._

“If you aren’t going to tell him, I am.” She stood- evidently a little drunker than he’d thought. 

“Mystique!” He hissed. He grabbed her arm and hauled her back down into her seat, glaring at her. “If you so much as whisper about my feelings, yards away from Charles, I will choke you by your necklace.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “This is plastic, bitch.” She picked said faux-gold necklace off her neck, grinning. 

He felt it out and, “Actually, there’s a thin metal rope on the inside, so I can and will choke you to death, my dear.” 

“You fucking dick.” She didn’t unclasp her necklace, though, so she must have known somewhere deep inside that he wouldn’t kill her if worst came to worst. “Fine, I won’t say anything. But you should.” 

“Him first.” 

“Yeah, right. My brother, Charles-I-Don’t-Want-To-Overstep-My-Boundries-Xavier. Confess. Sure.” 

“What do you mean?”

“He’s afraid of influencing people to feel how he does as he is- with you it’s probably worst. I bet he thinks that if he confesses first, you’ll feel guilty enough to go along with it.”

Erik rolled his eyes. “Your perception of your brother is warped. It always has been.” 

“Yeah, but I’m right on this one!” She said. “I mean, the only other reason he wouldn’t have told you he loves you by now is because he’s waiting for you to get there- he probably doesn’t want to push you away.” 

_Or, he just thinks of me as a friend._ “Sure.” 

“Come on. I’ve heard the stories, my brother is a total score in the sheets.”

“Mystique!” He hissed. 

“What? Everyone likes gossip! You know how many times I embarrassed him with that?” 

“I hate you.” 

“Sure you do. Anyway, you actually like him, he’s good in bed, and he’s cute, I guess.” _You guess??? He’s the reason I was born with eyes!_ “So what’s the hold up? Put a ring on it before Beyonce kicks your ass.” 

“Wh-“ He wasn’t going to question her. She was drunk, after all. In fact, that wasa great excuse to end their current conversation. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m _right_ and you know it.” 

He really didn’t, though. “If I confess, it’s going to be in the heat of the moment.” He promised her. “Words are meaningless and Charles and I will continue in the path we’ve had set before us, rings, singers, and idiot blue best friends aside.” 

“Hey, Charles is going to get his feelings hurt if you say _I’m_ your best friend again.”

“You’ve always been my best friend.” He rolled his eyes.

She raised a brow and gestured pointedly at Charles. 

“You always have been, and always will be, my best friend.” He said. “Charles is my… Charles.” 

“Your boyfriend, now, so I guess that makes sense.”

It really didn’t. What _was_ Charles, anyway? Best friend wasn’t a high enough word. Charles was, well, just that. His Charles. His other half? Too cheesy. They weren’t together, so it wasn’t romantic. They were. Soulmates. Platonically. Or something. 

“Don’t blow a fuse thinking to hard, Gears.” 

Ah, his least favorite nickname, curtesy of their Human History A teacher freshman year. Boy, that man had gotten him into some trouble the day Erik had finally had it with the robot comparisons. Charles had to talk for a good long while with the school before they allowed him to stay. Good times. 

Erik ignored Raven and tried to flag down a waiter without being a douche- he wasn’t used to this sort of dining. “A glass of something?” He said. 

“We have-“

“I just want to be drunk.” Erik said, pleadingly. If he heard the names of the liqueurs he’d back out of it, full of guilt over how much high-brand shit cost. He was going to avoid that by not knowing what he was getting.

His waiter seemed on board with that plan. He was gone for a moment and then returned with a large glass mug of an amber liquid. A quick taste revealed it to be beer. Not his favorite, but it was rather strong, so it would do.

Mystique asked for a vodka on the rocks. As if she needed more. 

“You gotta tell him.” She said, suddenly.

Erik looked up form his drink. “Hm?”

“Charles.” She clarified. She looked strangely sober, all the sudden. “You have to tell him.”

“Tell him what?”

“You have to tell him you love him.” She sighed. “You… you think because he’s a telepath, he already knows. That’s he’s always in your head and he knows exactly how you feel, all the time, about everything, about him. But he doesn’t. You have to tell him you love him, like you would with any other person. He won’t know, otherwise. He…” She nodded to herself. “You have to tell him.”

They were verging into dangerously personal territory on both sides, and Erik really didn’t want to go there surrounded by a bunch of rich second-rates who’d been banished to the kids’ table. He slid a hand over Mystique’s back and gave her a tight smile. He understood too well. 

“I will.” he said. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. She lost a little bit of her control when she wasn’t sober- her blue eyes had turned amber a while ago. “Promise?”

He swallowed around the uncomfortable nature of such a thing, wondering what was wrong with him. “Yeah.” He said. “I promise.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to do two parts for each chapter, but Charles's part seemed to go on longer than usual here. More conflict arising in the future, but hopefully none so bad it'll make you put the computer/phone/tablet down and do a walk around the room. Join us next chapter for light-hearted Cherik shenanigans to smooth over the morning.  
> Super unedited. Probably a billion and one typos but WHATEVER. 
> 
> This chapter is called "Erik Briefly Contemplates Manslaughter on Behalf of His BFF&Ever"

 

Charles got out of the shower to find Erik still up in bed, reading. He was rubbing the back of his neck- a clear sign that he was frustrated with what he was trying to learn.

“What’s that, love?”

“Law stuff.” Erik said. “Humans are stupid.” 

Charles wasn’t going to argue with him this time. “Law stuff. Dreadful.” 

“I don’t like being banished, Charles.”

Charles wheeled over to his side of the bed. Erik helped him as he had the night before, unprompted. Charles chuckled. “Banished, hm?”

“To the second table. I’ll not have it, Charles- I’ll fake propose to you if that’s what it takes, I swear it to you.” He set the wheelchair down when Charles was in the bed, never once looking up from his book. “You’re going to have bedhead.”

“It’ll make my mother think we were up to no good, all the better for us.” He grinned wide- mischievous in a way that loudly reminded Erik of their freshmen selves; sneaking up onto the dorm roof to drink. He projected the image without meaning to, grinning himself. 

Charles laughed. “Now there’s something we haven’t done in a while.”

“No need to sneak.” Erik said, simply. He closed his book and put it aside, evidently done. “Not even Hank will scold us for getting smashed, now.”

Charles gave a snort at that. “Not while you’re around, but the second you leave…” Charles sighed. “He never quite forgave you for drunkenly attempting to turn my wheelchair into a sled.”

“If I was sober, it would have been a perfectly good sled.”

“And I’m sure no one would have yelled at us for sledding off the snow-covered roof of the physics building.” Charles laughed. “Not at all.”

“I never said that the _idea_ of the sled was a good one. Only that it would have worked.” He grinned. “Here, I’ll show you-“

“Ah, ah, no more re-shaping the chair; we promised Hank.”

“I’ll put it back once I’m done.” He griped. Still, he lowered his hand, leaving the chair be. There was much more to it than metal; re-shaping it took a lot of work and concentration and- depending on how new the chair was- sometimes Hank’s help. Erik wasn’t about to call Hank up in the middle of the night for help, even if he was pretty sure he’d committed this particular wheelchair to memory. 

“Yes, you keep it that way.” Charles laughed. He loved it when Erik got well and truly tired and his thought process leaked to the surface; loose thoughts with lots of mechanics behind them always tended to float up into Charles’s line of sight. 

Erik realized what was happening and threw his shields up, half-assed, but enough to keep things from bubbling up. “Sorry,” he said, referring to his slip-up in projecting towards Charles without meaning to. 

It was a problem they seemed to have, sometimes. Strangers had problems projecting at him, but with people who were really close to him, Charles often found that would start thinking loudly for him without realizing it themselves. He could always tell when they became aware of it and pulled the reigns back in; leaving only colors and sounds and snatches of words to buzz over their skulls instead of images and feelings and true thought. 

Charles enjoyed Erik’s accidental projection of thought more than anyone else. Everyone thought differently, but Erik’s unique brand of thought drew Charles in without ever trying. He thought like one put a machine together- slotting the oiled cogs in neatly next to each other, tightening screws smoothly and carefully as one went, neatly putting it all into place and then letting the gears begin to teeth each other around. It was charming, if not a little removed, but there was always a dedicated hand behind it all- a hand on fire, lit up with passion and rage. 

They fell asleep after getting adjusted like the night before, Erik secure on his side of the bed, Charles on his. Charles found himself walking into his own dreams, aware and excited to see what his sub-conscious had whipped up for the night. If he started loosing all his hair again, he was going to wake himself up, but otherwise was content to see where things went. 

He was getting ready for dinner, to meet his mother. 

“Why, Charles,” Erik said. He was in a tux, for some reason, even though Charles was sure this was a re-play of the other night. “You look entirely too fuckable in that shirt.”

His words, linked to his thoughts, were not colored with humor. They shone with a clear near-blue shimmer that was undeniable truth; Erik meant what he said. 

Charles flushed, just as he had the first time. “Oh, thank you, Erik.” He remembered sitting in the chair, wheeling after Erik, and wondering. He knew Erik thought he was attractive- his thoughts and words had reflected that easily over the years- but he didn’t know if Erik was attracted _to_ him. Those easy words, true to their core, gave him pause where many others wouldn’t have. 

Charles shook his head and found himself on his back. In his dreams he often had use of his legs, and this was no exception- he was lying in the grass, kicking his feet up, looking at the clouds. They were in the garden, he and Erik, and Erik was still wearing a tux, even thought they were laying on the ground. Charles wanted to say it surprised him, but Tux-Erik starred in a lot of his dreams. 

A man could have his simple pleasures, couldn’t he? 

“Good heavens,” Erik said- and Charles cringed at his own imagination, because in what world would Erik say ‘good heavens?’ “Look at the time.” 

“What time is it?” Charles asked, just to be polite. He was knew where his dreams usually went when Tux-Erik showed up. 

“Kiss-Charles-o-clock.” Erik said, and turned and smashed their lips together. 

Charles gave his sub-conscious a mental thumbs up. What a way to spend his time asleep, dreaming about kissing Erik. He imagined that Erik would taste like cinnamon spice, or ginger, depending on his mood. Sometimes Erik tasted like nothing in the real world- like the warm glowing kaleidoscope of colors that love tasted of.

“Charles,” Erik said, but it didn’t sound breathless or overcome with affection like his dream-self should. “Charles,” he said again, and Charles groaned. 

“But I was just getting to the good part!” He complained. 

“Charles. Charles!”

Charles blinked awake, finding Erik at his side. 

“What?” He grumped. He wasn’t worried that his dream had woken Erik up; he hadn’t accidentally shared his dreams with anyone since he was in grade school. 

“Your alarm.” 

Charles sighed and rolled over- really, his body felt rested, but his mind was trying to convince him they’d only just fallen asleep. He turned his alarm off and then slumped back into bed, letting out a long groan. 

“Tell me about it.” Erik muttered. Erik was usually an early riser, so it took Charles a moment to figure out what he was talking about. Breakfast with the family.

“Are you going to shower?” 

Erik sighed. “I might as well.” He ran a hand over the thin stubble growing over his jaw and said, “I need to shave.” 

“I like your fuzz.” Charles teased. “You look like a sexy lumberjack.” 

Erik raised a brow at him. His mind said, _really, Charles? Really?_

“What?” Charles laughed. “Lumberjacks can be quite attractive!” 

“Did you hit your head while I wasn’t looking?”

“Go take a shower.” Charles laughed. He tossed a pillow at Erik when his mind whispered, _bossy, bossy._ “I am not!” 

“You are.” _And a control freak for looking into my mind for that._

“I’m not looking! You’re practically yelling it.” 

“Who, me?” He said, attempting to come off as innocent and failing miserably. _Never, Charles, you must be snooping._

_Shower._ Charles reminded him.

A flash of red-hued haze clamped around Erik’s mind; an odd shield that Erik sometimes put up at the oddest of times. “I’m going, I’m going. You always boss me around, Charles.” 

There was a willingness to be bossed around floating around Erik, though- Charles wasn’t worried. “If you’re not done in twenty minutes I’m leaving you to find your way to the dining room yourself.” 

Erik walked into the bathroom and shut the door, but his thoughts carried louder than his words would. _Oh, yes, what a threat Charles. As if I don’t know the mansion nearly as well as you do. I’m so sure I’d have trouble finding the dining hall._

_You’ve gotten lost more times than I can count!_

_And you’ll come to my rescue every time, because you have a god-complex._

_I- I do not!_

_You do._ The water turned on and Erik’s thoughts went to jelly- warm and relaxed. _Your shower is a damn crime._

_You’re welcome._

_Maybe I’ll propose after all…_

_Don’t get ahead of yourself, my friend. Fake proposing won’t get you anything you don’t already have._ Charles waited for a reply for a moment, but Erik had tapered off into activity. Charles drew his mind back into himself and sat up, pushing his legs over the side of the bed. Erik had left his chair within reach, so he carefully clamored into it and began to get dressed. 

Erik had been right- his bedhead was awful. He sat before his vanity and combed through if a few times before it finally submitted to him- unlike Erik's, his hair actually cooperated with him for the most part; the one trait all the Xaviers shared- good hair. 

He dressed himself and, by the time he was done tying his shoes, Erik was out of the bathroom, towel about his waste. Chest bare. 

“You rushed me into forgetting my clothes.” He said- almost teasing as he brushed past Charles. “Bathroom’s all yours.” 

_I’m all yours,_ Charles thought, but he kept the stray whisper tightly bound up in his head. “R-Right, yes.” He cursed himself a million times and hurried to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. 

He couldn’t get the image of Erik out of his head right away. Water dripping down his golden skin, muscles flexing as he moved about the room with ease and familiarity. What would it feel like to run his hands through Erik’s wet hair, or trail his fingers over Erik’s steam-specked biceps? Those were thoughts better left locked in a trunk and shoved into the deepest, darkest corners of his mind, but it took a damn bit of wrangling to get them into a box and tape it shut. 

By the time he’d finished up in the bathroom, he was sure he had himself under control again. He wheeled out into the bedroom again and found Erik fully dressed, to his disappointment. 

The thoughts from before frantically rattled in their box. Charles ignored them. 

“Ready?” Erik asked. 

“For another family meal? Oh, never.” 

Erik laughed. He stood and gestured at the door, pulling it open by the metal in the doorknob. “Darling,” He teased, gesturing widely at the door he was holding open. 

“Thank you.” Charles was used to Erik holding things open for him- the man liked to help nearly as much as he liked to show off his powers- but the darling part was new, and, if Charles was to be honest, a little touching. Even if it was pretend. 

Even if they hadn’t known the way to the dinning room, they would have been lead there by the smell of cinnamon and fresh bread. They’d started out walking slow, but as soon as they caught the heavenly scent they doubled their pace, suddenly realizing how hungry they were. 

They were not the last to the dining table that morning. Sharon and Kurt were already in their respective seats, but Raven and Cain had yet to show. Charles was glad to be rid of Cain for even a moment, but wondered about Raven, who was late for everything but a meal. 

He cast his mind around the house and found she was sliding down the banister on her butt; certain no one was watching. He chuckled, knowing she’d be along in a moment. 

“Charles.” Sharon said, nodding. She turned to his ‘boyfriend’ and barely disguised her frown as a blank face. “Erik.” 

“Sharon.” Erik returned. He smiled at her; his best 'my-second-mutation-is-smiling-inhumanly-wide' smile. Charles, personally, thought it was a dashing smile. Most people, however, didn’t share his sentiments. Sharon was one of them. 

“Mother,” Charles followed Erik over to their places from their dinner, smiling up at Erik when he made an empty space for Charles to wheel into again. “You look wonderful this morning, did you sleep well?”

“As well as one can sleep in a house that has a maniac lose inside.” She paused, delicately, “A metaphor, of course.”

“Of course.” Charles said. He could see Erik’s smile jumping in the corner of his eye. 

“I prefer the term activist.” Erik said. “In my own metaphors.” 

Sharon sipped at her coffee, elegant as ever. Charles could tell by the buzz around her head that she’d either come to breakfast already drunk, or had spiked her coffee. He really didn’t care either way. 

“Is that how you’d describe yourself?” Kurt grunted. “I think terrorist is a bit closer.”

“I’m not a terrorist until I take human hostages.” Erik returned. He paused before grinning again. “Though, there’s an idea.” 

Kurt openly glared. 

“Morning boys!” It was then that Raven made her appearance. She’d come to breakfast naked, but as usual had shaped herself so as not to expose anything inappropriate. Erik and Charles were rather used to it.

Sharon was not. “Good God, Raven, put some clothes on.” 

Raven paused and then looked around the room. “Who are you talking to?”

Sharon narrowed her eyes. “Mystique,” she growled. “Get. Dressed.”

“It’s not like you can see anything.” She said. Her skin fluttered and then she was wearing black lacy lingerie. “How’s this?”

Erik was trying his best not to laugh, Charles noticed. Well, at least someone thought it was funny. Charles himself wished Raven would just let it be- it wasn’t like she was going to make their mother change her mind with force. 

Sharon looked ready to faint. 

Kurt looked nasty as usual. Charles shielded himself in order not to get any of this thoughts, but quickly sent one to Raven: _you’re only rewarding Kurt for being a pig._

She acted as though she hadn’t heard, but put on the appearance clothes nonetheless. Her shirt said “The Next Step” and her shorts had skulls all over them. Charles just shook his head. 

“Thank you,” Sharon sighed. 

“I’m still naked, you know.” Raven replied. She sat down next to Erik and grinned at him. 

Sharon let out a long suffering sigh. 

Mr. Allan and the staff started to serve them, then. They had cinnamon rolls, fresh eggs, sausage links, and grape fruit- all of which the cook assured were safe for Erik to have. They also put out glass pitchers full or orange juice, milk, and lemonade, as well as a pot of coffee. 

They all began to serve themselves before Cain finally came stumbling into the dinning room. He was hung over, from the feel of it, and Charles couldn’t help but think it served him right. He dragged himself over to his chair across from Erik and sat down heavily, glaring at his plate. 

“Rough night, Cain?” Raven taunted. 

“Fuck off.” He hissed. 

“You humans are so touchy.” Erik mused. He and Raven shared one of their looks, smiling wide at each other. Charles wondered at the wiseness of letting them sit next together at all. 

“That’s-“ Cain stumbled. “That’s racist.” 

“Oh, forgive me.” Erik droned. “I hadn’t meant to hurt your human feelings.” 

“You son of a b-“

“Remember, Cain, no cursing at the table.” Raven sang. Her voice changed into a version of Sharon’s. “Mother would be awfully _cross_ with you, tsk-tsk.” 

Cain glowered at her for a moment before dropping his eyes, clearly unable to handle the light. “Shut up.” He grumbled.

“Too loud for your hangover?” Raven said. Loudly. 

“Will you shut up!?” He winced after yelling. Lowering his voice, he said, “You’re such a bitch.”

“It’s my secondary mutation.” 

At the word ‘mutation’ Cain suddenly seemed to remember something. He turned to look at Charles, saying, “Charlie, hey, hey, you- you used to uh, do that magic thing on her, right?”

“I’m not a magician, Cain.” 

“No I mean. With like. You would make her hangover go away. Do that to me.”

Kurt looked sharply over at his son. “Don’t you invite him into your head! You don’t know what else he’ll do in there- he might go changing your ideas, you thoughts; steeling your secrets.”

“I have no interest in re-decorating an already shabby apartment,” Charles said, but the insult flew right over both the Marko’s heads. “And Cain, you can’t just accept my mutation when it’s convenient for you. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for the hangover to wear off on its own.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” Cain snipped. “Of course you’d help them but not me! Just because you’re a bunch of human-hating _freaks_.”

“The only thing freaky about the three of us is how freakishly attractive we are.” Raven said, cheerily. “And besides, we don’t hate all humans, Cain! Just humans like you.”

“Mutie.” He muttered. 

Her face darkened. “What did you just call me?”

“I call you a mutie.” Cain said, a little louder. 

_Oh no._ Charles suddenly realized they weren’t going to be able to finish breakfast. This was going downhill, fast. 

“Say that again.” Raven seethed, standing. “I fucking dare you.”

“Raven-“ Sharon started. 

“Mutie.” Cain said. He crossed his arms, smug. 

Raven screamed and launched herself over the table. 

Her punch landed before anyone could stop her, throwing Cain out of his seat and to the ground. She was on him in a minute- pinning him to the floor with her legs while she pulled another punch. Cain screamed, there was a crunch, and suddenly Raven’s fist had blood on it. 

The dining room dissolved into chaos. Kurt turned and attempted to back-hand Raven, but she blocked him with ease. As soon as Kurt had struck out at Raven, Erik shot over the table, nocking food off as he went, to throw Kurt against the wall and keep him there by the metal of his belt, watch, and tie clip. Sharon stumbled to her feet and rushed over to Raven, trying to haul the girl off of Cain, who was crying. 

Charles froze them were they were. 

“Sorry to enter your minds without permission.” He said, calmly. He ignored their various mental yells. “Erik, darling?” He let Erik go, watching as Erik growled once more at Kurt before walking back over to the table to Charles. “I think it would be best if you gathered food for yourself, my sister, and myself. Perhaps a picnic in the study.” 

Erik began to float platters at his side, mute with his cooling fury.

“Cain, I take it you’ve learned your lesson. Raven won’t hit you again, but that word’s not to leave your mouth. Raven?” He let her go, and when she drew back her fist to hit Cain again, froze her once more. He sighed. 

“Erik?” 

Erik was already on it. He walked over to Raven and ‘stumbled,’ ‘accidentally’ kicking Cain in the ribs. 

Charles sighed and punched the bridge of his nose. “Erik, really.” 

Erik carefully picked Raven up, holding her and walking back over to their side of the table. 

“I’m very sorry things got out of control. Cain, I’ve taken the liberty of alleviating your hang-over after all. I think you will have much more pressing things to deal with. I’ve had Mrs. Allan phone for a doctor, he should be here soon to see to your nose- it'll be easier for him to get in, treat you, and leave if we know the pain you're experiencing is only from your injuries. Mother, I’d appreciate it if you would refrain from screaming at Raven like you’re thinking. That ugly word has no place coming out of a human’s mouth, whether you like it or not, it’s a slur against our kind and it’s utterly unacceptable. I’m not saying I condone violence, but Cain did get what was coming to him. Kurt, if you even think about revenge, I will not do anything to protect you against Erik or Raven’s response. They’ve both been trained to protect themselves against humans who would hurt them for what they are, you understand, so you will not get very far before you find yourself in a world of pain. Now- I except everyone to put this whole mess behind us. We will see you at dinner.”

With that, he turned and started out of the room and towards the study, mindful of Erik’s angry presence at his side. When they finally got there, Erik opened the door and floated all their food to the deceased Mr. Xavier’s desk, neatly putting the food down. Charles released Raven, as well as the others, as soon as the doors closed.

“Don’t fucking do that!” Raven shouted, throwing herself out of Erik’s arms. 

“Oh, and what would you rather me do? Let them call the police on you and have you arrested for assault?” Charles spat. “I hardly think I need remind you that, as a mutant, you won’t be treated very fairly if you end up in a jail cell! Kurt has as much money as we do; I don’t want to get into a fucking pissing contest of hiring lawyers and risk seeing you imprisoned.” 

“You had no right!” She yelled. “You could have made them forget if they tried to do that-“

“And then risked getting myself thrown in prison for life, all because you couldn’t keep your anger in check.” Charles snapped. “You’re right. I had no right. But the day I stand by and do nothing while my little sister ruins her life is far, far away, Raven.” 

Raven balled up her fists and turned to Erik. “What about you? Don’t you have anything to say? I’d think you’d be just as furious as me!” 

Erik chose his next words very, very carefully. “We have to keep each other safe.” He said, and as Raven opened her mouth to yell, said, “Charles shouldn’t have let them off so easy. But he was right to stop you.” 

“What would you have had me do, Erik?” Charles sighed. “You two have the advantage of not being telepaths. I could be in damn big trouble for just what I did. If I’d have done anything more, I could risk prison for life. And no offense, Raven, but I’m not going to jail for something so stupid.”

“It’s not stupid!” She yelled. “He doesn’t get to just- to call us that!”

“Cain is a bigoted idiot.” Charles said. “And while he had no right, nor will he ever have the right, when you throw away your sense for something so stupid he wins. And I will not let someone like _him_ win. Should the day come that he truly steps over the line, I won’t stop you, Raven, but there are people all over the world who say worse to our faces and behind our backs every single day. It’s not worth the fall out to go after every single one of them.” 

“So you think.” Erik said. “But that’s just how it starts, Charles. The names, the slurs, the whispers. That’s how it takes off.”

“I’m not saying that it’s okay, Erik.” Charles sighed. “I’m just saying that’s not how they’re going to get us. We’ll keep doing what we do. We’ll keep up our protests, and our strikes, and occupy the courts- we’ll do it all. But we’re not going to get thrown in jail for punching out some idiot who calls us muties. I know that this is- it’s the eternal debate. We can’t sit back and do nothing, I know. But violence isn’t the answer this time.”

“Violence was working pretty well for me before you stopped us.” Raven grumbled, but her mind had already settled down. 

“Yes, and the second Erik had let Kurt go, he was going to have you both arrested. It was going swimmingly, certainly, Raven.” 

For a second they were quiet. 

Eventually, Charles said, “Breakfast is getting cold. We shouldn’t fight each other. We’ve got to stick together.”

“Fight the humans.” Erik said. 

Charles reluctantly nodded. He didn’t agree with violence, but he knew that sometimes it was necessary. “Yes. Together.” 

Raven seemed sated by that. “Mutant and proud?” She asked, tentatively. She held her hand out for Charles. 

He smiled a little and gave her a high-five. “Mutant and proud.” As they settled down for breakfast a few minutes later, he couldn’t help but also say, “And Raven?”

She looked up, mouth stuffed full of cinnamon roll. 

“That was an impressive right hook.” 

They all dissolved into laughter. Charles breathed in their moods- light and loving again. Even if they were pitted against each other, they’d always come back to this; having each others’ backs. 

_I love you._ Charles sent out to Raven. 

She rolled her eyes and huffed, but after a moment, she lowered her rigorously constructed shields to send out a small message. _I love you too._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was keeping a good schedule until I told someone about it. My new schedule is to post whenever, where ever, and that's about as solid as it's going to get. Anywho, we're starting to get close to the end of the fic. I don't think it's going to pass ten chapters, if it even gets to that. I hope you all continue to enjoy it- thank you so much for all your lovely comments and kudos; they've really been keeping me going. 
> 
> This chapter is called "Erik Wants What Goes With Salad but Only Orders Suffering"

“Come on,” Charles said. “If we have to suffer them, we might as well enjoy what they do have to offer.”

Erik wasn’t sure how they were going to make it through the rest of vacation. Charles had a horrible family, to be honest- Mystique being the sole exception. He’d barely kept himself in check after breakfast, thanks to Charles- but he was right. They really couldn’t afford to get arrested, or Charles could wind up in deep shit. Sure, Erik and Mystique would be processed harshly, but it was nothing compared to the laws against psionics. He had several ideas around that, but they were in case of another incident. 

“Erik?” Charles frowned. “Are… you mad at me?” 

Erik shook his head. “No, not at all,” he said, truthfully. He knew, too, that Charles would know he was being truthful- if he’d been mad he would have let Charles know for damn sure. 

“Do you not want to go?”

“I was only lost in thought.” Erik said, simply. He let his shields down- he’d put them back up after kicking Cain, hoping that Charles wouldn’t stop him, but the telepath hadn’t so much as poked at his head. “Where to?”

Charles was determined to spend his family’s money, and from experience, Erik knew it probably wasn’t just on himself. Erik had come to terms with Charles spending money on him- Charles was, after all, only ever too happy to spend his family’s money up. Especially on Erik and his other friends. 

Erik allowed himself to be ushered into the car, and then even picked the music for the drive into town. Charles said, “Mall or shops?”

“Local.” Erik said. “Anything around here mutant-owned?”

Charles laughed. “Of course, my friend. Charming little shop on the edge of town. I’ve been needing to refresh my wardrobe- I feel perhaps you could do for some new clothes as well?”

“Finally going to buy clothes that aren’t made for old men?” 

“We’ll see,” Charles said, which was pretty much a no, but Erik would work on that later. “What about you? Anything respectable to be added to the mix?”

“Like what, a tuxedo?”

Charles choked. 

Erik laughed. “Surely the idea isn’t so alarming.” 

“Oh, no, not at all.” Charles recovered. He stared straight out at the road, never moving his eyes to Erik. It was hard to read him that way. “The idea of you in a tuxedo is charming.” 

“Charming, sure.” Erik snorted. 

“Do tell me you have _something_ formal for tonight.”

Erik paused. He’d looked over the list of things he needed, back before they’d left, but he’d… skimmed it. He knew how to pack, so surely there was nothing Charles could tell him he wouldn’t already have in his bag. Except for something formal, it seemed. “Formality,” he tried, “Is a human con-“

“Save it.” Charles cut him off. “You can find one while I’m pattering about the shop- they’ve got about any kind of clothing you can think of, so I’m certain they’ll have something.”

Erik sighed. “I’m not buying a tuxedo, Charles.” 

“You’re right, Erik, _I’m_ buying it.”

“Charles,” he growled. 

“Oh, come, Erik, you’re supposed to be my date. You can’t go making me look too bad, now can you?” When Erik didn’t rise to the bait, he said, “Won’t it be a shame when the two best-looking men in the room are both mutants? Just think how it will shame the huma-“

“Fine.” Erik said. 

Charles laughed. “My friend, you are far too easy.” 

_I could be easier, for you_. He thought, but he kept the thought trapped under a net and securely within in his own mind. He’d gotten good at that. “Shut up, Charles, you just want to blow money.” 

“Maybe I want to see you in a tux, you never know my motives.” 

“Oh sure.” Erik resisted the urge to roll his eyes. As if Charles actually cared about what Erik was wearing or not wearing. No, it was Erik who cared about what was on Charles’s body. And- oh. Oh, he was going to have to suffer through seeing Charles dressed up, now, wasn’t he? Fuck.

He put that thought out of mind. He was always attracted to Charles, it wasn't like some fancy clothes were going to be anything special. 

He continued to stew over that particular thought- that Charles could wear fucking old man clothes and still make Erik's mouth water- the entire ride into town. Charles probably thought he was still cross over that morning, which was for the best. 

When they finally reached the store, Charles sent Erik towards the back. The mutant there was a tall woman with thin white fur growing up her arms. She turned when she spotted Erik and smiled. “What can I help you with?”

Erik gave her the information- he needed something fancy, price wasn’t an option, and his boyfriend had to give it the OK before all else. She laughed and got to it after taking his measurements. 

“So you’re dating Charles?”

Erik blinked. “You know him?”

“Oh, certainly. He thinks he’s so sneaky, but I knew it was him who donated all that money to my GoFundMe. I don’t think I’d have been able to open up shop otherwise. He’s a wonderful guy.” She pulled a tall number from a rack and held it up to Erik. “How’s this?”

It was a nice tuxedo- the jacket and pants were a dark gray, nearly black, and bowtie and handkerchief were colored a deep maroon. It was crisp, flawless, and honestly looked like it should have cost more than Erik’s fucking car. 

“Damn.” 

She laughed. “How about you try it on? Charles has a similar one- his is navy, thought, not gray. But you’ll have the same button-ups, and the white will compliment both your outfits, so you’ll be matching in a way. Unless you want me to get you both a standard black number-“

“No, no, this is perfect.” Erik assured her. He took it by the hanger and made his way to the changing room. “I’ll just…” 

“Holler if you need me. I’m going to check and make sure Charles doesn’t need anything.” 

“Right.” 

It fit him perfectly. He liked the colors, he liked the cut, and above all, he liked how it made his eyes look like steel. He didn’t dare look at the price tag, afraid he’d feel guilty enough to back out of it all. He changed very carefully. 

“Knock knock.” 

Erik turned at the sound of Charles’s voice, just as he’d been pulling his shirt over his head. He unlocked the door with his powers as he sat down to pull his shoes back on. 

Charles poked his head in. Or at least, it would have been Charles, but the way he was keeping his wheelchair out of sight gave it away. “Mystique.” 

‘Charles’ frowned and shifted back. “You’re no fun.” 

“Stalking us, my dear?”

“Charles texted me. I have nothing better to do. And besides, check this out.” She held up a skirt, printed with flowers and little bumblebees. “Hot, right?”

“I’m sure.”

“Ooooh,” she leaned around him and touched the jacket he’d just put back on the hanger. “That’s sharp. You wearing it tonight?”

“It seems that way.”

“Charles is going to have his hands full, if you know what I mean.” She made a ‘waa’ sound and reached forward in the air, miming grabbing something with her hands. An ass, it looked like. “Wonk-wonk.” She winked at him. 

“We’re no longer friends.” 

“Aw, come on!” 

“What has you in such a good mood? You were ready to kill when you left breakfast this morning.”

“Azazel is on break now, too.” Raven said with a grin. “He’s coming over as soon as he gets his stuff together.” 

“You’re the one who’ll have her hands full, then.” Erik dryly returned. Without an ounce of emotion, he said, “Wonk-wonk.” And grabbed the air before him. 

Raven choked on her laugh. “You’re such a bastard.”

“Make sure you use protection.” Erik teased. “Don’t want little Mystiques running around, turning into the president and Charles in order to demand ice cream before dinner.”

“Okay that was _one_ time.” 

“Three by my count.”

Raven rolled her eyes. “And besides, you don’t know that I’ll be having sex.”

Erik raised an eyebrow.

“… Okay I’m totally gonna have sex. But I’m not a moron.” 

“Of course not.” Erik said, sweetly. He finished tying his shoes and stood. “Whatever you say.” 

“Ass.” She punched his shoulder. 

“Is that Raven I hear?” Charles rounded the bend, then, lap piled up with clothes. To Erik’s despair, it looked to be mostly sweaters. 

“That’s a lovely lilac sweater, Charles.” 

“Fuck off.” Charles said, easily. He grinned at Mystique. “Raven, darling, so good of you to join us. When will Azazel be meeting with you?”

“Pretty soon, I think. He-“

_Poof!_ They all stumbled back as there was a sudden plume of smoke and the sharp scent of sulfur. Before them stood none other than Azazel himself, looking rather harried as he brushed his leather jacket off. 

“Az!” Mystique smiled and leapt forward to smash their lips together- fast, but filthy nonetheless. “You’re here!” 

“In the flesh.” His hands rested on her hips easily, in a way that both made Erik fiercely protective of the girl as well as jealous. He could just see Charles holding him by his hips; smacking him on the lips when they’d been apart. “Ready to go?”

“Go?” Charles said, before Erik could.

“Well he has to unpack.” Mystique reasoned, gesturing at his bag. 

“Oh, nonsense, throw it in your car. You simply must have lunch with us!” 

Erik held back his smile. You didn’t have to be a telepath to see that all the two really wanted to do was rush back to the mansion- and, namely, Mystique’s room- to have a well overdue reunion. Charles seemed to know that, by the glint in his eyes. 

And mystique had no other excuse as to why they’d need to go back. 

“… Sure.” She said, smile strained. Erik was sure she was mentally screaming at Charles. 

“Splendid. Erik, darling, would you mind terribly?” He gestured at the pile of things in his lap before rustling around in his messenger bag to produce a credit card. “I’d like to talk to Raven for a moment, if you don’t mind.” 

_Patch me in,_ Erik demanded. “Yeah, sure.” _I don’t want to miss this._

“Thank you, darling.” _You’re a rotten gossip, Erik, I swear._

“Start the car for me?” Raven asked Azazel sweetly, holding out her keys. 

He kissed her cheek before taking off. 

Then it was just Charles and Mystique, and, unbeknownst to Mystique, Erik. 

Or so he thought. 

“Patch Erik out of this, Charles.” 

“Wh- how-“ Charles re-claimed himself. “Erik isn’t-“

“Oh whatever I don’t care.” Mystique rolled her eyes. “Charles what the fuck?”

“What?”

Erik listened intently, mentally, as he made small-talk with the owner of the shop while she rang him up. He was practically splitting his face in half with the force of his grin. 

“I haven’t gotten laid in _four months._ ” Raven stressed. “Do you know how fucking horny I am, Charles? A girl’s got needs!” 

“Oh, posh, Raven, you can have a quick lunch before you jump the poor man’s bones.” Charles said. “I just want to get to know him a little.”

“More like you and Erik want to scare him off.” 

“Not if he’s a good man.” 

Raven narrowed her eyes. “That’s my call, Charles.” 

“Well then there shouldn’t be a problem.” He cheerily replied. “Don’t deny your big brother the small things, Raven, come. Me and Erik always vet your dates.” 

“And that’s the exact reason I never had relationships.” Raven muttered. “They were always scared that you and Erik were going to. I don’t know. Make them disappear off the face of the earth if they forgot my birthday.”

“Well if they forget your birthday can you really say you’d miss them?”

“Charles!” 

Erik choked back a laugh, sure that the woman before him was finding him odder by the minute. 

“That’s a line straight out of Erik’s mouth!” Mystique pouted. “Erik, you hear me? Stop influencing my brother, you prick!” 

“Raven, please-“

She gasped. “And what right do you have to stop me from dragging _my_ boyfriend back to my room to have my wicked way with him when Erik’s been riding _you_ into the mattress nightly!?”

Charles nearly severed their connection. Erik reeled at the sensation just as he was being handed their bags. All the emotion was taken right out of the feed, until it was just the slight mental image of Raven and her words. 

“Oh my god, Raven-“

“What? You get some but I have to wait through fucking lunch?”

Erik reappeared at her side, then, allowing Charles to close their mental bridge. “If I can wait to jump your brother when he’s wearing those pant, you can wait to pounce on your boyfriend until we’ve all had a salad.” 

Raven narrowed her eyes at him. 

Damn- there he went again- thinking of her as Raven. That was one downside to sharing a thought-stream with Charles. He’d once called Cassidy _Sean_ after being in Charles’s head for too long. He still shuddered to remember such close familiarity. 

“I am getting some dick.” Raven said. “Salad or no salad.”

“So…” Charles tilted his head at her. “You’re coming to lunch?”

She seemed to consider it for a second. “Fine.” 

There Charles went again. Turning ‘no’ into ‘yeah okay fine.’ Why on earth Charles had been born a telepath, Erik didn’t know- he could do much better with a different mutation. He hardly needed the power to go into someone’s head because he could damn well change someone’s mind by batting his lashes and smiling pretty, the bastard. 

_I heard that._ Charles’s voice muttered. 

_... Which part?_

_Just ‘bastard’ but I suppose it was loving enough. You have a horrible habit of shouting profanity at me with your thoughts, you know._

Erik scowled at him. “Salad.” He reminded. 

“Of course, dear.” Charles chuckled and lead them out.

Mystique fell into step with Erik, leaning over to whisper, “Looks like I’m not the only one ready to jump their boyfriend.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Hm, no, thank you, but I do believe there’s another Xavier that might be willing to take you up on that.”

“You changed your last name. That joke doesn’t work.”

“Doesn’t it, though?” She drifted off to her own car with a laugh, smiling coyly at Azazel, who was waiting in the driver’s seat, tail lashing from side to side with excitement. 

They made eye contact, for just a moment, and a silent agreement passed between the two of them. Recognizing each other as men who hadn’t gotten any in far too long, and because of Azazel’s mistake in thinking Erik was dating Charles, they wordlessly decided to make lunch a quick thing. Erik was glad of it, because he wasn’t sure how much of Mystique’s teasing he could handle when he wasn’t _actually_ getting any from Charles, or anyone else for that matter, and Azazel had his own agenda. 

Salad. Yeah. Salad would be quick. 

 

—

 

The last time Erik had been in the Xavier’s ballroom, he’d been standing on the back of Charles’s wheelchair, propelling them wildly around the room, the both of them howling with laughter. 

It was a very different room when stuffed full of aristocrats and servers and food and music. Erik couldn’t believe the amount of fine metal in the room- there were more watches humming to his power than he’d probably ever felt in one room before. He was momentarily filled with bliss at the song so many different kinds of metals created before realizing that the more watches and jewelry in the room, the more minds. 

Charles was going to have one hell of a headache when they retired for the night. 

They’d finished up lunch rather quickly and then had gone off on their own again, shopping for this and that, until finally they couldn’t ignore the time and headed back to the mansion. Erik had gotten ready far before Charles, and his supposed boyfriend had telegraphed a hope that Erik would go down to the ballroom before the party was in full swing and secretly commandeer a bottle of champagne before they’d be suspect to it. Erik had done that easily, and had set it out on the balcony in a plant so that they could escape too it when need be. 

When that was done, he was left to awkwardly stand post, trying his best to project an air of don’t-talk-to-me-I’ll-kill-anyone-anytime-anywhere, and so far he seemed to be doing pretty well, because no one had come within a five-foot radius of him. He preferred it that way. 

And of course Emma Frost would ruin it. 

“Well, if it isn’t Erik Lehnsherr.”

He sighed and wondered if he could scream ‘go away’ at her mentally without any repercussions. 

She chuckled. “Now that would be rude, don’t you think, sugar?”

“Emma.” He said. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Who, me? I think seeing you here is the oddity.” Then she smiled. “But then, where Charles goes, so does Lehnsherr. Where is my second-favorite telepath?”

Erik raised a brow. “Charles is second to someone?”

“Why myself, of course.” She winked. 

Erik sighed. “He’ll be here.” _Eventually._

Emma tilted her head back and laughed. When Emma laughed, it was like someone was elegantly pouring diamonds out of a vase and onto a bed. Rich, elegant, and until heard you would never have thought of a scenario where it would exist to begin with. 

Erik always got the vague feeling he was being laughed _at_ when Emma was involved, but he knew it was no accident and that he was not alone in the feeling. He ignored it, steadfast. 

“Oh, sugar, don’t look so put-off.” Emma purred. “It’s been too long, really, I haven’t seen you since graduation. That was almost three years ago now, wasn’t it?”

He knew it was two, and she knew it was two, but to admit to that would be like telling her that he actively thought about her, which he didn’t. Another carefully laid trap which he floated over with ease. “Something like that.” 

She grinned. Her teeth were white enough to take him off-guard any time he saw them, but he tried not to get hung up on it. “So,” she drawled, “Have you and Charles gotten together yet, or are you still stuck orbiting each other like a pair of confused moons?”

He blinked at her. “What?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, do most people not tell you? It’s painfully obvious.”

He collected himself and rolled his eyes. “Yes, we’re together.” 

“Congrat-“ She paused. Her grin turned wicked and she said, “Oh, darling, you’re really in over your head, aren’t you?” 

He briefly considered strangling her with the nearby light fixture and running. 

She chuckled, looking beyond him. “Take care of yourself, Magneto.” She said, stroking his arm. “I’ll leave you to your man, charming _couple_ that you are.” With that, she turned smartly on her heal and started back into the party, weaving amongst the people like a ghost. 

Erik turned away from her in time to receive Charles. 

His heart stopped dead in his chest. 

Erik was, at heart, just a guy. He had weaknesses, and dreams, and fears, and things that made him feel stronger. Like any other man, there were things he thought of and things he didn’t. 

He’d never really considered how he might react to seeing Charles dressed to the nines. He knew that Charles occasionally dressed up, but it had never been something to linger on. Seeing him then, in his crisp, midnight blue suite- eyes set off by the color so that they practically gleamed in the low light of the ballroom- he resisted the urge to check his pulse. 

“Ch-Charles.” He choked. Internally, he was wrestling wildly with his libido, chocking back words like ‘you’ and ‘me’ and ‘bed.’ He was sure he wanted to say something other than ‘Charles’ but he was suddenly uncertain of his ability to so much as speak.

“Was that Emma I saw?” Charles asked, craning his neck. 

“Y-yes.” He shook himself, and keeping his thoughts under net, thought, _Get ahold of yourself, Lehnsherr. They’re just clothes. If he’d come down naked, well then you would have cause to- abort, abort, abort._ He mentally threw that train of thought off its tracks and spilling down into a gorge, satisfied with the knowledge that it would explode when it hit the bottom. He could… explore the wreckage. At another time. “Yes. She wanted…" Upon refelction, he actually had no idea what she'd wanted. A bad sign, certainly. "... To catch up," he finished, lamely.

“Ah, well, it’s good to see that the two of you are still friends. I wasn’t sure, what, with her starting up a rival mutant organization.” 

“Potential ally organization.” He corrected, absently. He was stuck on what Charles had said before that- he and Emma were friends? 

“Undoubtedly.” Charles nodded. 

“I’ve been having a lot of conversations without speaking tonight.” Erik ground out. 

“Sorry, darling, you just think so loudly sometimes.” He paused. “But yes. You and Emma are friends. Good lord, Erik, I can’t believe I had to tell you that.” 

Erik shrugged. ‘Friends’ have never been his strong suite. Case in point- Charles himself. Charles, who Erik is supposed to be friends with. Charles, who Erik wants to fuck until he’s so exhausted he can barely move metal. Charles. Who is his friend. Who he should _not_ think about fucking.

“Did you get the champagne?” 

Erik had never been more glad for the liquor. “Yeah. It’s out on the balcony.” 

Charles looked out over the ballroom, completely full, and sighed. “Not sure how I’m going to get out there,” he said, fiddling with the arm of his chair. 

Erik briefly imagined floating Charles up over everyone.

Charles threw back his head and laughed. 

Erik flushed, sighing. “I’m glad my mind amuses you, Charles.” 

“Oh it never fails to, my friend.” Charles shook his head. “Come on. We’ll make our way down the side of the room, we have to socialize a little or mother will have a heart attack and kill me.”

“Not if the heart attack comes first.” Erik said, helpfully.

“Yes, Erik, thank you- very comforting.” 

They started on their way, then. It was just like Erik had thought it would be. He hung back like decoration and sampled fancy food carried past him by servers, doing his best not to get pulled into conversation. Charles would say, “Mr/Mrs. So and So, this is my boyfriend, Erik Lehnsherr,” they’d shake his hand, some looking a bit unhappy to do so, others without care, some seemingly happy for Charles. And then Charles would launch right into conversation, and Erik would play a game where he followed certain pieces of metal as they danced around the room. 

It went on like that for at least an hour. They’d made it nearly to the balcony doors, where only a few people had spilled outside, when Sharon finally found them. 

“Charles,” she said. She narrowed her eyes at Erik but didn’t say anything. “Have you spoken to miss-“

“Yes, yes, I’ve spoken to her, and her husband, and her son, and his wife, and their two daughters. I’m not a child any more, mother, you don’t have to goad me into playing nice with the other boys.” 

_I play far too nice with the other boys, anyway, don’t you think?_ Charles said, telepathically. 

Erik tried not to choke on his drink. 

“Quite.” She said. She looked up at Erik again, and then back to Charles. “I-“

“Excuse me,” Charles said, suddenly sounding offended. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose. Whatever she’d thought, she knew she’d been caught in the act. “It’s not an unreasonable concern, Charles-“

“Erik is my _friend_.” Charles snipped. “He would never-“

“Your friend?” 

Charles just glared at her. “My boyfriend.” He said. “Come on, Erik. We’re going.”

He half-hoped whatever Sharon had thought meant ‘going’ in the ‘get our luggage’ sense, but he wasn’t too disappointed to be lead out onto the balcony instead. Charles must have looked thunderous, because the three people out suddenly seemed to find their glasses empty and hurried back in, not by Charles’s doing. 

“I can’t believe her.” He muttered. 

“What did she say?” Erik asked. 

“That woman. She can think whatever she wants about me, I’m used to it, but you? That is where I draw the line.” 

“What did she say?” Erik repeated. 

He sighed- or, rather, huffed angrily in a collected manner. “Thinking about how she hopes you don’t use your ability to pit pocket any of her friends. If they can be called that, the woman has no _real_ friends, and for good reason.” He angrily finished off the flute of champagne he’d been sipping at for the hour. 

Erik rolled his eyes and went to retrieve their bottle, handing it to Charles as he continued off the balcony and down into the garden, away from the windows. “It hardly matters, Charles, people have said worse out loud to me-“

“But she’s my _mother_.” He groused. “And I love you! And she can’t just- if she thinks that she can have all these prejudices against you, and me, for that matter, and expect me to keep caring after her. I just. It’s not acceptable. My own _family_ , so horrible, I just.” He stopped talking, stopped moving. He bowed his head over the bottle, which he hadn’t been able to get open, and handed it to Erik, nearly vibrating with frustration. 

He re-shaped a penny in his pocket into a cork-screw, opened the bottle, and handed it back to Charles. 

“Thank you.” He said, softly. 

Erik just shook his head. “Your mother has always thought awful things. About you, first of all- it shouldn’t be any different with me.” 

“But it should.” He muttered. “I hate it when anyone thinks badly of you.” 

Erik snorted. “Charles, nearly everyone thinks badly of me.”

“Exactly.” He muttered.

“Charles-“

“But they’re wrong!” Charles exclaimed. He looked up, baby-blues catching the moonlight and shining nearly silver. “All these people just judge you, right away, without ever getting to know who you really are. And it’s not fair, Erik; you’re brilliant and wonderful and handsome and you _care_ , you really care, and it’s so hard to find anyone who really gives a damn anymore, Erik. You’re so much more than they know! You’re funny and sharp and you have so much potential and good in you, my friend, so much good… and…” He seemed to wind down, running out of steam just as quickly as he’d blown up. “They don’t know you like I do.” 

Erik felt his heart fluttering at Charles’s words. He leaned against the wheelchair and grinned a little. “No one knows me like you do, Charles.” And he was glad of it. 

“But they could get to know you. Instead of. Just assuming the worst right off the bat.” He muttered. He took a long swig from the bottle and then handed it to Erik, watching as he drank, too. Erik handed it back. “I know it doesn’t bother you all that much, Erik. But… it matters to me.”

“Why?” Erik snorted. He took another drink, pulling the bottle from Charles’s hands.

“Because I love you.” He said. 

Erik very carefully swallowed, handing the bottle back to Charles. He tried to steady his breathing as his heart took off at a sprint. _Because I love you_. They said ‘I love you’ all the time. This was nothing new. 

But it felt new. 

It felt like more.

He licked his lips and told himself to get his head out of the clouds. “I love you too, Charles.” 

Charles looked down at the bottle in his lap. He said nothing more, taking a long, steady drink. 

“Come on,” Erik said. “We can sneak around the house and up to your room-“

“No. Not yet. I can’t just leave.” he sighed. “Let’s go back up to the balcony.” 

“… Alright.” 

Erik kept in step with Charles, passing the quickly dwindling champagne between them. Neither of them were very big on champagne, but it was something to drink, and so they quickly finished it off as they slowly made their way back. 

One of the balcony doors was still open, letting laughter and chatter spill out onto the patio with the music. Erik looked up at the people dancing inside, momentarily struck by how odd it was to see people waltzing after having gone to so many clubs. 

Charles caught his gaze. “You can go dance,” he said. “If you want.”

He turned to Charles. “Don’t you want to dance?”

Charles gestured down at his chair.

Rolling his eyes, Erik stepped forward, holding his hand out for Charles to take. “If you can go sledding in a wheelchair,” he said, and spun it around in a slow circle, “You can dance in one.” 

He swore he could see the stars themselves in Charles’s eyes. 

“Oh.” 

They began to dance. At first, seriously, hands trailing together as they went through the steps. Erik was surprised he remembered how to waltz, but every time his memory faltered, Charles easily filtered the information into his head. Charles was grinning like a madman, on the brink of laughing the entire time they moved. Erik stepped back and took control of the wheelchair with his powers, spinning it around before pulling it back to him, like Charles was a woman in a huge dress. Charles thew back his head and started to laugh, cheeks red, eyes lit up with awe. 

Erik pulled Charles a little too close a little too fast, hitting his legs on the chair and tumbling forward. He caught himself on the arms of Charles’s chair and then looked up, face to face with Charles. 

Charles swallowed. 

The moment hung between them, extending in the eternity that existed in that single, fragile second, before Erik came back to himself and began to pull away. 

_My mother is watching,_ Charles told him. _She’s wondering-_

_If we’re really together._

_It would be a prime time for us to have kissed._

Erik leaned forward, mouth at Charles’s ear. “Should I kiss you, then, Charles?” His heart throbbed in his chest, his stomach turned over in a combination of fear and excitement. 

His voice came out hoarse. “Yes.” 

Erik trailed his nose from Charles’s ear and over his cheek. Their noses bumped and they met eyes, fuzzy with the closeness, breath tangling together, too hot in the close space. 

Erik closed the sparse distance between them. 

It was a supernova. As if their worlds had collided together, melding, imploding, connecting, exploding. Erik felt as though everything in the universe had come into sharp perspective because finally, _finally_ , everything was right. It was like coming home after having none. His heart melted and re-formed in his chest, beating wildly. Charles had such soft lips, as plump and bitable as they looked, and for a moment Erik couldn't imagine his life without this particularly moment in it. 

It was right. 

It was perfect. 

He groaned, digging his hands into Charles’s hair, as they opened their mouths.

It was wrong. 

Erik pulled back from Charles, gasping for breath. He’d never- _never_ in his life had he kissed someone like that. It had never felt like his nerves were live wires, or like he was going to fold into himself, or have his soul come tumbling right out of his body to crawl into Charles’s bones. His best kiss, their first kiss, and it was a fucking lie. 

“Erik…” Charles started. 

Erik was suddenly overcome by the fear that perhaps his feelings had leaked through. Charles had to know- he had to know what this meant to Erik, he had to have felt it. But to Charles, it was all pretend; just some big play put on for his fucking mother. 

“Erik, I-“

Erik Lehnsherr didn’t get feelings. 

Erik Lehnsherr didn’t have crushes. 

Erik Lehnsherr didn’t fall in love.

And Erik Lehnsherr never ran away. 

“Erik!”

Erik turned and threw himself over the balcony railing, hitting the ground and running. He was too vulnerable- splayed out under a microscope for Charles, handing him the scalpel, saying ‘here, dissect me, when you’re ready.’ It was too much, and he’d never been good at being vulnerable, especially when he knew he would get hurt in the end. It was too messy, too gripping, too harsh. He couldn’t do it- not on the balcony with a hundred people on the other side of the glass to watch his world fall apart like it was a daytime television show. 

Not now, not ever. 

He ran. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long- I started working and it's been hell. I haven't slept... at all. In weeks. BUT that aside, no sleep is no match for the place that Erik and Charles have in my heart. So. 
> 
> This chapter kinda hit me out of nowhere- I wasn't planning on fighting or conflict, or anything heavy? But this chapter is strife with it. Don't worry- we'll end with a light note, for sure. Just... soldier through the bad and I promise you'll be rewarded. 
> 
> This chapter is called "Erik Has Feelings (Namely Rage)"

 

Charles didn’t know what he’d done wrong. 

He knew he hadn’t leaked his feelings into Erik’s mind- he’d kept strict walls up between them. Even melting into Erik’s mouth, he knew they would stand; he’d had plenty of practice and it was second nature to him by then. He’d thought, for a moment, that maybe, just maybe… Erik might have returned his feelings, to some degree. He’d never wanted so badly to peal back his wards and take a look into someone else’s mind. 

But he’d never do that to anyone he loved; least of all Erik, who’d put his trust in Charles and had never looked back. He wouldn't- couldn’t- even stop Erik from running away.

He stared after Erik’s retreating form, hand stretched out. “Erik…” 

He despised his damn legs more than he had in a long time. If only he could get up and run after Erik, beg him to talk. But no- he was marooned on the patio, only able to watch Erik leave. 

“Charles.” 

He turned. Raven had crept out of the party to stand before him. 

“Oh, Raven.” He sighed. She looked beautiful- blue skin lit up by the gold of her dress. It caught the light as she moved, shining in the dim like the amber of her eyes. “You look wonderful.” 

She brushed off his comment, flicking the curled ends of her red hair behind her shoulder. “What happened?” 

“Erik, he…” 

“I saw you two kissing. I was- I was going to come out here and actually give you hell about it, I had Az wait over by the punch. But.” She gestures towards where Erik had run off. “Did you say something to him…?” She tapped her temple. 

“No. It’s…” he sighed. There was no point in keeping it up anymore. “Can I just show you?”

She nodded. 

He let the memory into her head, quickly. Realizing that mother would force him onto someone, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to take Erik with him. The idea- that maybe he could pretend to date Erik, that maybe his feelings would be put to bed after having a trail run so that he wouldn’t always wonder what it would have been like. Erik's’ acceptance, and their plan. All of it. Erik running away.

She blinked at him. “Oh, Charles…” 

“I know.” he ground out. He wanted to be above the anger he felt at hearing her pity, but he couldn’t help it. He’d had enough pity to last him several life times; he didn’t need more. “It was stupid.”

“No, no, you don’t.” She paused, biting her lip. She seemed caught between telling him something and directing his attention to another topic. She eventually settled for the middle-ground. “It wasn’t stupid. You _need_ to talk to Erik.”

“Oh, he made his feelings perfectly clear.” Charles muttered. “Running like that.”

She frowned. “Damn it, Charles. Just because you can see into everyone’s mind, you think you know what’s up! But you don’t! You have to actually _talk_ about these things.” Not talking had nearly ruined their relationship, once upon a time. “You don’t know what he’s thinking until you ask. Has it ever occurred to you that maybe he ran because he’s feeling the same way you are?”

“What? But that’s…” he couldn’t find a word for it. “Not right.” He said, lamely. 

She rolled her eyes. “Talk.” She demanded, setting her hand on his shoulder. “Erik listened to you this morning. He’s clearly willing to argue with you about anything under the sun. This is no different. There’s a reason for everything, and you don’t always know what that reason is.” 

He considered it for a second. A spike of alarm in the party, however, cut him off. He turned sharply to see Azazel being approached by a man a bit older than them- military haircut, permanent frown, and a familiar eel-like mind. 

“Oh dear.” He said. “Stryker.”

Raven turned, expression contorting in fury, just as the man reached her boyfriend. Charles couldn’t hear what was going on, but by their body language and the way that the rest of the party-goers backed away from the two, Charles knew it wasn’t good. 

Raven put her drink down. “I’ll take care of him,” she muttered, heading for the door.

Chalres could feel the tension between the two. She wouldn’t make it in time to do anthing. “Raven-“ he said, but it was too late. Stryker threw the first punch, loudly colliding with Azazel’s nose. Blood began to gush down his face, dark against his red skin, just as his tail reached out, snapping around Stryker’s wrist. They vanished. 

“Shit!” Charles could follow Azazel’s last thought to where they’d be next- outside, just a little ways off from the balcony. “Raven-“

“Az!” She yelled. Her form rippled in panic as she tried to ditch her dress, only to hiss when she remembered it was real. She hiked it up and ran down into the grass, where Stryker and Azazel had begun to roll in the grass. 

Charles lifted two fingers to his temple as he started rolling along after his sister. _Mother-_

_I don’t like you barging into my head._ She hissed. _I’m already clearing the party out. I’ll be having words with your sister for ruin-_

He cut their connection. He could deal with his damn mother later- he had to get down to the grass. Raven was screaming, and Azazel and Stryker were teleporting from spot to spot, exchanging blows before popping up in another spot too quickly for Raven to get to. 

“Charles!” She screamed, turning around. She was crying. “Stop him!” 

They were moving too fast for Charles to get a firm lock on them without hurting either of them. “I-“ He lifted his fingers up to his temple in order to focus. 

“Not again, you don’t.”

Charles turned, eyes wide. How could he not have felt anyone coming- 

Kurt was at his elbow, clamping something down around his wrist before Charles could shove him off. The world went black for a second and Charles thought he’d somehow been knocked out. His senses came back quickly; he could hear Raven screaming, he could smell the sulfur from Azazel’s teleportation, and after blinking a few times he could see the sky. He must have fallen out of his chair, he realized. He tried to push himself up. 

He couldn’t feel anyone’s minds. 

“What-“ He choked on his own words, looking down at his wrist. Kurt. He’d clamped a blocker around Charles’s wrist. That was why Charles hadn’t felt him coming- he’d been wearing one. He realized how bad the situation was just as the panic hit him, choking his throat. He was a sitting fucking duck out of his chair, so he cast a quick look around. It was a little ways off- he must have rolled down the hill after falling out of it. 

“Raven!” He called. But she’d finally gotten ahold of Stryker, whom she’d thrown off of her boyfriend to wrestle in the grass. It looked like she had the upper hand, but her dress was clearly getting in the way. Kurt had gone after Raven, but he was more Azazel’s speed. The mutant was protecting Raven by keeping Kurt back, acting like some kind of linebacker. 

And Charles couldn’t feel any of them. An old, deep fear that he’d buried away came rushing back to engulf him, sinking its long teeth into his neck. The fear of being completely and totally alone in the world, of being powerless- the fear he might never get out of that hospital bed. 

“Erik,” he choked. He desperately reached out for Erik’s mind, but the blocker held fast to his psych, keeping the call needled in his skull. “Erik!” He pulled frantically at the blocker, but it was locked- Kurt must have had the key. 

He turned onto his stomach and started to army-crawl towards where Azazel and the other man where fighting. He hit Kurt in the jaw hard enough to down the man just as Cain came lumbering down the lawn, barreling into Azazel hard enough to throw him to the floor. 

“Damn it.” Charles cursed. He pulled himself forward, sweating- but Kurt was so far away. He should have gone back to his chair, pulled himself up into it, even if he might have fallen down the slope again, it was better than fucking crawling towards Kurt, helpless in the dirt. 

Stryker had military training as a special ops, Charles recalled, but looking over he found Raven was more than a match for the man. Her dress loudly ripped and she cried out in victory as suddenly her legs were free. She had him down, choked, and out in mere seconds. She turned, fire in her eyes, and went after Cain. 

Charles tried to urge himself on faster. Cain had friends hurrying out of the ballroom, all huge meaty guys who were eager to intercept Raven before she could get to Cain and Azazel. It didn’t feel real, to Charles, who could only _see_ the men, not feel them. 

He finally reached Kurt. He frantically patted down his pockets, rolling him over, “Where is it?” he growled. He shoved his hands into Kurt’s jacket pockets. “Where is it!?”

And then Erik was there. 

“Charles-“

“Erik!” He looked up at Erik like the man was a god. “Help me, please, I-“

He looked over to where Stryker was getting back up. Raven always had been scared of killing people by putting them down to soundly. Stryker charged at Raven’s back, but he was hauled up off his feet before he could get to her. 

“Erik, it’s a blocker, I need help-“ Charles said, but Erik stepped past him. “Erik!” 

Eirk ignored him. He lifted all the other boys by the metal on their clothes, throwing them all back. “Azazel,” he said. “Mystique. Are you alright?”

Raven wiped the blood from her lip, nodding. “Yeah. Fucking assholes-“

“Azazel?”

The man was holding his nose and tipping back his head. He gave Erik a thumbs-up. 

“Can you get yourself to a hospital?”

Azazel snorted arrogantly. “Just who do you think I am, Magneto?”

“Take Mystique.” He commanded. “I see you limping.” 

“Motherfucker has steel toes.” Raven muttered. She let herself be drawn into Azazel’s arms, and after that, they winked out of existence. 

“Yes, I can feel that.” There was a noise and then Stryker screamed. Charles saw the shoes crumble in on themselves, and before the other men could get anything out, the metal on their bodies were lifted off before propelling back at their heads. They dropped to the ground, one by one, as Stryker continued to howl in pain. 

“Erik, stop!” If they left it as it were, the men would all get hauled off by the police. Any further and Erik would be in deep trouble too. He scraped at the blocker with his nails, drawing blood where the thing cut into his wrist as he tried to shove it off. “Erik!” 

Erik’s touch extended to Kurt. He dragged the man over to the others, lifting them so that none of their feet touched the ground. “And why should I stop?” he spit. “Your own father, Charles. He attacked you, threw you to the ground, for no reason other than your existence. What right does he have to live?”

A chain rose from around Kurt’s neck. The key- it was there, on a thin metal chain. But Erik had other ideas for it. Slowly, it tightened around Kurt’s neck, pressing into his flesh. 

“No!” Charles screamed. “Erik! Erik!” 

The men all dropped. Erik raised his hands to his head, letting out a loud cry as he crumbled in on himself. 

Emma came strolling out behind him, face impassive. “That’s enough.” She said. She walked over to Kurt and took the key from around his neck, throwing the chain off of his head and keeping the key. She began towards Charles. “Your mother has called the police.” 

“Thank you.” he breathed.

Emma bent over and neatly inserted the key into the blocker, unlatching it and then kicking it away from Charles. 

The world came rushing back to him in a wave of sound and color. He sighed in bliss as his senses returned to him in full force, as that cold, creeping fear tore its claws from his heart and went crawling back into the dark. “Oh, thank you, thank you-“

“You’re one of us, Frost!” Erik barked. “Let me go!” 

“Charles is one of us.” Emma hissed. “And you didn’t go to him when he needed you.” Still, she let him free. “The police will be here soon. You might not want to be around when they get here.” 

Erik looked over to Charles- his only means of transportation. 

Charles couldn’t bear to look at him. “Bring me my chair,” he said, and sighed when Erik did it right away. “Help me up.” He demanded. 

Erik did as he was asked, running over to where Charles lay and then carefully pulling him up and situating him in his chair. For a moment, Charles thought about punching Erik in the face. He must have thought it rather loudly, because Erik flinched. 

“Bring me up to our room.” He demanded. 

Erik did as he was told. Charles sent Emma a mental thank-you.

_It was nothing._ She replied. She was walking back into the mansion to collect her fur coat before she left. _Don’t think to badly about him, Charles. It was a dick thing to do, but he thought it was for the best. He wanted to protect you._

_He has a funny way of showing it, leaving me helpless like that._

_He’s never thought of you as helpless._ She replied. _I know how... How horrifying a blocker can be, but you have to understand, they don’t really get it. To them, they think it’s like a wall between us and the ‘control’ button in their brains. That’s all they see. Not a sensory deprivation tank._

He huffed. Still, she was right, and he had to thank her again. _Thank you, Emma, really. I don’t know what we would have done, were it not for you._

_You’d have figured it out._ She said. _Goodbye, Charles._

_I’ll see you soon, Emma. Or I hope._

She sent him the mental equivalent of a wink, and then left his mind to drive away. 

Erik still hadn’t said a word. 

They reached Charles’s room. When they first entered, Charles thought he might ignore Erik completely. It was what he deserved. But he gathered up some clothes, said, “I’m changing. You should too.” And then slammed the door to the bathroom. 

He wanted to cry as he changed out of his ruined suite. 

Charles wondered why there always had to be a fall. So often, they were just barely happy- walking above the constant background misery and hate that seemed to tug at mutant souls. Why then, did they have to fall into it, if they were so often above it? 

By the time he’d changed clothes and washed his face off, Erik had packed their things. He was waiting for Charles, sitting on the edge of the bed, the luggage neatly stacked by his side and ready to go.

Charles didn’t say anything to him. He just started towards the door, knowing Erik would follow after him. 

Erik made to help Charles up into the car when they got there. Charles angrily spat, “Don’t.” And then went through the process of hauling himself up into the passenger seat and pulling his chair up after him. 

Erik packed the car in silence.

They passed several police cars once they made it clear of the driveway. Charles pulled the car over to the side of the road each time, hands tightening on the wheel whenever another siren went blaring past. He didn’t so much as look at Erik, pained and angry as he was. 

Erik was very quiet. He did not even breath with his usual vigor, defeated as he seemed to be. 

Charles drove for an entire hour in the silence. He didn’t care to turn on the radio or play any of his CDs, and he was certainly not going to speak to Erik. What would he say? ‘How could you do that to me?’ ‘I thought I meant more than that to you?’ ‘I thought you trusted me?’ ‘Why?’ ‘I love you.’

He drove until his eyes began to feel heavy. After roughly an hour and forty minutes on the road, he pulled into a hotel. He unpacked his wheelchair without sparing Erik a glance, unloading himself and slamming the car door closed to lock. Erik gathered their over-night bags and trailed despondently after Charles as he angrily wheeled himself into the hotel. 

“I’m sorry it’s such short notice.” Charles said, slipping the woman his credit card. He felt odd talking after so long of resilient silence. “Do you have any rooms open? 

“The only ones we have left are one-bed rooms.” She said, sorrily. 

Charles went through a slew of curses in his mind, but smiled at the girl. “That’s fine.” 

He got their room key and headed towards the elevator. Erik used his power to push the button before Charles reached it, and the doors opened without another moment. 

The ride up to the third floor was one of the most strained Charles had ever experienced in his life. He wanted to speak to Erik, but he didn’t. He could tell Erik wanted to talk, but he’d be damned if he gave the man an opening before he was offered an apology. He felt like he could cut into the atmosphere between them with a knife, like it was a physical thing. It was choking him. 

By some miracle, the girl had given them a room with a handicap shower. Charles commandeered the bathroom first, angrily brushing his teeth, angrily washing his hair, angrily scrubbing the dirt from underneath his nails where he’d scraped at the ground to move. Seeing the red lines on his wrist from where he’d pulled at the blocker only made him even more furious, so as soon as he was out of the shower he changed into a sweater that nearly covered his hands, as well as his pajama pants. 

Clean and dressed, he felt a little better- more in control of himself than he had since he’d been knocked from his wheelchair. He looked at himself in the mirror as he toweled off his hair and took several long, deep, calming breaths. 

He went out into the bedroom and found Erik had taken the spot closest to the door, since the bed was so close to the wall. It was hardly anything, but it made a little bit of Charles’s rage dissipate to know Erik had taken his least favorite spot in order to make it easier for Charles.

“Bathroom’s all yours,” he grumbled- the first time he’d spoken to Erik since they’d left. 

Erik went. 

By the time Charles had pulled himself up into bed and opened up the book Erik had left to read, Erik was already out. He hadn’t showered, but he’d changedinto pajama pants and brushed his teeth. He didn’t look at Charles as he crossed the room to his bags, where he looked around for a clean night shirt. 

Charles settled back into bed, putting Erik’s book on the nightstand. He was contemplating reaching out to turn the lamp off, unsure of whether or not he could reach, when Erik spoke. 

“I did what I had to.” 

Just like that, all of the anger Charles had buried came rushing back. “Oh, of course,” he snapped, sarcastically. “You had to leave me helpless and groveling in the dirt. How naive of me to think otherwise.” 

Erik turned around, face drawn in stone. “You didn’t give me much of a choice.”

“What!? What does that even _mean_?” Charles yelled. “You had every choice!” 

“The second I took that blocker off, you would have stopped me.” 

“Erik, when have I _ever_ forced you to do anything?!” Charles said. “Even at breakfast, when I froze you, I didn’t _hold_ you there! You could have broken free any time you wanted! I’ve- never. Never have I invaded your mind to make you do what I want, Erik. You know I wouldn’t!” 

“But you would have.” Erik snapped. “To save them.” 

“To save you!” Charles yelled. “Maybe. It was a _fist_ fight, Erik. When we bring our powers into it, when we overwhelm them like that, we’re just more fucking headline material. Is that what you want? For the front cover of the news to say ‘mutants use their powers to overwhelm small group of humans?’ Because that’s what would have happened! We would have only spawned more hate for ourselves.” 

“The humans would have gotten what was coming to them!” 

“You crushed his feet! The worst our side suffered was a broken nose, Erik!” 

“No it’s not!” 

“Azazel is going to be fine!”

“They hurt _YOU_!” Erik bellowed. 

For a moment Charles stopped. He took in a long, shuddering breath. “ _You_ hurt me, Erik.” He said, quietly.

Erik flinched back as though he’d been struck. 

“I was just laying there. I couldn’t- I couldn’t see or hear anything, Erik, it was… it was like I was stuck in some alternate universe where I’d gone blind and def and I. I couldn’t move. And you just left me like that, all because you thought I was going to stop you. Don’t you trust me?”

“Of-“ He scrambled into motion, taking long strides across the room, until he was crouching in front of Charles, on the ground. He took Charles’s hand. “Of course I trust you.” 

“Then why didn’t you help me?”

“I… I couldn’t think.” he said, slowly. “Charles, you were hurt, he’d. He’d gone after your mutation and pushed you down and I just. They were hurting us. And I couldn’t just let them get away, not like that. I had to do it and I…” 

“You didn’t though. You could have helped me. You did what the humans do, Erik- you shoved aside my mutation when it wasn’t convenient for you anymore. You’ve always said you love my telepathy, that you don’t mind it, but clearly, you feel I’ll use you like a living puppet.” 

“It…” he trailed off. Understanding was beginning to creep into his eyes. But then he frowned and shook his head. “No. Charles, you _would_ have stopped me. You preach your morals at me, but when it comes down to it, I know you. You would have stopped me from hurting those worthless humans. You know it.” 

“Because it’s _wrong!_ ” Charles snapped. “You could have gotten yourself locked up!” 

“It would have been worth it; see if they ever attack one of our kind again.” He stood, letting go of Charles and backing up as his anger set in again. “I won’t let it happen, Charles.” 

“So you’re just going to let me lay on the fucking ground, helpless?! While I’m forced to watch you throw your life away on something so small!?”

“It’s not small.” He snapped. 

“A broken nose, Erik! Raven broke Hank’s nose on _accident_ once!” 

“It’s not the same!” 

“But it’s not worth all this!” 

“But you are!”

“I’m not even hurt!”

“You could have been!”

“Well I’m not! Erik, I’m disabled, not fucking incapable. I’m not delicate!”

“I never said you were-“

“Then stop treating me like I am!”

“I’m not! You- You’re strong. You’re not-“

“Exactly! It doesn’t fucking matter that I was in danger, Erik, we all were!”

“You’re missing the point.” He growled. “It was _you_! It could have been you!“

“But it wasn’t!” And upon seeing Erik open his mouth to shout back, he couldn’t take it. Erik could do what he wanted, damn it, but treating Charles like he was made out of glass while his little sister was all bricks and mortar? It wasn’t fair- Erik had never treated him specially and Charles’s heart would break under the force of his rage if Erik were to start, suddenly. The worst he could do was deny it. “Why does it matter so fucking much to you if it’s me!?”

“Because!”

“Because!?”

“Because I’m in love with you, you fucking moron!” 

Charles froze. 

He felt his heart stop as he met Erik’s eyes- Erik, who went pale, backing up a step as his eyes went wide. 

“Wh… what?” Charles choked. 

Erik whispered, “You heard me.” 

Charles couldn’t move. Couldn’t think, couldn’t blink. There was no way. Erik couldn’t be in love with him. _There’s no way_. 

Erik angrily pulled his nightshirt on. He was beginning to go red. “I’ll sleep in the car.” He muttered. He summoned the keys to his hand and off the desk on the other side of the room. 

“No!” Charles threw himself upright, hand stretched out to Erik. 

Erik paused. 

“No.” Charles said, a little quieter. “Come… come here.” 

Erik did as he was asked, warily, like he was expecting Charles to strike at him. He sat timidly on the side of the bed, within Charles’s reach. 

“You’re in love with me.” Charles repeated. 

Erik nodded his head in the way a sinner in confession might. Like he was waiting for the sentence to drop, the punishment to begin. 

“Erik.” Charles grabbed his hand. “Erik, look at me.” 

He did, though he seemed loath to do so.

“You’re not alone, my friend.” He breathed. “Erik. I love you, too.” 

Erik just looked back down at his lap. “You don’t have to let me down easy, Charles.” He hissed. “You-“

“No, no. Erik.” Charles reached out and pulled Erik’s head up to face him, hand light on the other man’s jaw. “I’m in love with you, too. I _love_ you, Erik.” 

Erik seemed unable to believe him. He stared, and stared, and stared. 

Charles laughed a little. He could feel his eyes beginning to brim with tears. “I love you,” he repeated, lightly. “I’m in love with you. Erik. I love you, I love you, I-“

Erik’s mouth clashed with his. 

_Finally,_ his blood seemed to sing. _Finally._


End file.
